


and i have miles to go before i sleep

by victoriousscarf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Arranged Marriage, Character death but this is a fairytale not a tragedy, Dubious Consent, Fae & Fairies, Magic, Mild Internalized Homophobia, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 02:34:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: There is a town on the edge of a dark forest. In the town, they insist everything is normal, practical, and absolutely magic free but they warn to never venture into the woods.For the woods are full of monsters and tricksters and cursed ones. Which is why when Bofur finds himself lost there he's not inclined to trust anyone, not even the golden haired boy who insists he's human but has his own secrets to keep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So while trying to finish up Only Break What's Yours the Hobbit muses made a break for freedom and have not shut up for several weeks. Which brings me here because when the muses give you a full story from start to finish you just write the goddamn thing.
> 
> Massively inspired by Blackbriar's EP "Fractured Fairytales"
> 
> Title yanked shamelessly from Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" 
> 
> Usual disclaimer of pairings/characters/tags to change as I fill in the details and figure out what I'm actually doing.

Bofur woke up and he was still in the forest.

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and there were twisted roots and dirt above him.

But he could have sworn when he passed out, blood dripping down his arm, he had been under the branches of a tree, not the roots.

“You're panicking,” a voice said beside him and Bofur almost jumped out of his skin. “That's not going to help anything at all, you know.”

Except that only made him panic more, as it was still shockingly dark and he couldn't quite make out the figure beside him. He started to roll over, trying to catch a glimpse of them only to be stopped by the blinding pain in his shoulder down to his chest.

“I said panicking wasn't going to help,” the voice said again, and whatever was beside him sounded warm enough, but Bofur had been told since he was born not to go into the forest. The forest wasn't like their town, it was full of the darkness and magic and the beings there were nothing like the good, kind folk of their community. They were vicious and wild instead, and played only by their own rules and no good could come of mixing with them.

But a child had gone missing, and Bofur had been among the search parties sent out. And then, like a fool, he had been separated from the others.

He spared a moment to hope Bifur had gotten home safely and hadn't stayed out searching for him.

From there it was almost comical, how he'd wandered, only getting lost deeper into the forest, the place of all his childhood warnings and nightmares. And then there had been a beast, crouched low and feral and looking like no natural animal Bofur had every seen. He'd run—not that it had done much good—and passed out, staring at a far off patch of stars like it would be the last time he'd ever see them.

Except here he was, awake, and he wasn't out in the open anymore.

“You'll have to excuse me,” he said finally, his voice a harsh rasp. “Considering I can't even see you.”

“Would that help?” the voice asked, and it was obviously masculine sounding, even if that meant nothing out in the forest.

“Can you see in the dark?” Bofur asked. “Because I sure can't.”

There was a pause when Bofur tried to keep breathing before there was a rustle and a sharp clicking sound and flame came to life out of the darkness beside him. He flinched back, having been looking too closely at the brightness. When he blinked the bright spots out of his eyes he found a youth sitting next to him, his bright gold hair braided with several tarnished silver beads and several wood carved beads. They clanked together when he tilted his head to the side, considering Bofur by the light of his lamp.

“You had a lamp the whole time?” Bofur asked weakly because the boy was breathtakingly beautiful but that meant nothing because they were in the forest and nothing was as it seemed. He couldn't even be certain the boy was _human_ or how old he might really have been.

“I thought the light might hurt your eyes more than sooth you,” he said, setting the lamp down between them.

“I don't know what you think I am but I can't see in the dark,” Bofur said and the boy paused, tilting his head the other way with another metallic clank.

“You're human,” he said. “That much is obvious just looking at you, let alone the feel and sense of you. Besides, I saw you come from the town.”

“And you're not,” Bofur said, swallowing past his dry throat and the boy arched a brow at him.

“Yes I am,” he said and shrugged. “Not that you'd believe me at all, would you?”

Bofur shook his head and the boy sighed. Not, Bofur had to admit that he was much of a boy at all. Younger than Bofur, and not quite grown into his adult limbs yet, but he soon would be.

“So what do you think I am then?” the boy asked, and he was crouched, his elbows on his knees as he considered Bofur and all he might represent.

“A fae creature of the forest.”

That caused the boy to laugh. “Me? I am no fae, though there is one in my household. I think he might be offended to have me considered one of his, he's certainly called me plenty of other names over the years.”

Bofur shuddered at the casual mention of living with a fae. “You say you're human but that you live with a fae?”

“They are not uncommon in the forest,” the boy said. “Very little is uncommon here.”

Bofur could feel his heart beat start pounding again in fear. The boy noticed, frowning and he started to reach forward. “Calm,” he said. “You'll do yourself ill like that.”

“How can I be calm?” Bofur asked. “The forest—we tell stories of all the dark things that live here. You could be lying to me at any moment, tricking me to stay here forever.”

In the flickering flame of the lamp, the boy's eyes were dark and he leaned back on his haunches again. “I could be,” he agreed, and one hand came up to fiddle with one of his beads, a carved wooden one. A sound distracted him and Bofur finally noticed the bright carved ruby hidden in the back of his hair when he turned his head.

Just as he tried to figure out how that fit in with everything else, the boy turned back around. “But I do not intend to harm you,” he said.

“How could I know that?” Bofur demanded and the boy nodded toward him, looking down at his chest. Frowning, Bofur followed his gaze, stopping at the bright white bandages wrapped around his chest. Lifting his hand he saw more of the same bandages twining down his arm. There were a few spots that were dark already from where he hadn't stopped bleeding, but the job was efficient and for the most part effective.

“It will take you a while to heal,” the boy said. “You tangled with a creature of the forest who does not look upon interlopers kindly.”

Bofur swallowed, still looking at the bandages.

“I may still mean you harm,” the boy said. “There is far more than physical harm to fear. But I would at least keep you alive, which is more than you could say for others.”

“Who are you?” Bofur asked, looking back at him.

The boy blinked. “Names are powerful here,” he said. “I would not hand mine over idly.”

“I thought you weren't fae,” Bofur said.

The boy laughed, shaking his head slightly. “That doesn't matter. There are just certain rules to abide by here. Names have power, and to exchange them creates a bond of a sort.”

“But you'd try and save my life anyway,” Bofur said and the boy smiled. Now that the adrenaline was fading, Bofur felt himself slipping toward exhaustion. “What will happen to me?”

“I don't know,” the boy said. “With luck you'll heal, and return to your city of other dull humans.”

“I'd rather dull than never knowing what is about to happen,” Bofur said, finding himself oddly offended.

“Oh, there are always rules here,” the boy said. “You simply have to learn them is all.” He paused, and Bofur was caught again by his face in the flickering flame. “You should sleep,” he whispered. “And I need to go. I'll be back as soon as often as I can.” He paused. “And I'll leave the lamp,” he added, like that was significant, though Bofur did not know how or why. “You should sleep, heal. Please don't try to leave because I can't protect you.”

“Not sure I could try and leave if I wanted to,” Bofur admitted and the boy smiled before rising.

“Sleep,” he said, and pushed the lamp closer to Bofur, leaving flint and tinder within his reach. That was the last thing Bofur remembered, almost like his word was a command because he didn't even stay awake long enough to see the boy leave.

-0-

“Brother!” and Fíli stopped as Kíli came running down the hall toward him. “There you are! You should know better than to be in the forest by yourself at night.”

“Who would touch me now, brother?” Fíli asked and Kíli scowled. Fíli jostled his shoulder, realizing he had been too dismissive. “It is not that I am not still careful, I swear.”

“Which is why you came back long after dark?” Kíli asked.

“I lost track of time,” Fíli lied.

“And the sun going down?” Thorin asked from behind him and Fíli's shoulders twitched before he turned around.

“Uncle,” he greeted, feeling queasy for the first time since he'd found the human lost in the forest. He had not expected to have to lie to Thorin so quickly.

“I agree with your brother,” Thorin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What could have distracted you so?”

“There was a party of humans from the town,” Fíli said, which was perfectly true if a little sideways. “I was curious.”

“Those humans are dangerous to us,” Thorin said and Fíli found himself bristling.

“We're human too,” he said.

“They would not care about that detail if they found us here,” Thorin said. “They live their lives constrained and dark, believing themselves above and separate from us. If you encountered one of them they would only bring you harm.”

And Fíli thought of the man lying alone in a hollow in the middle of the forest, panicked and in the dark. “You can't know that with complete certainty,” Fíli protested. “Besides, I didn't let them see me. They were looking for someone.” Thorin's face paled. “You already know what happened to the girl,” Fíli said, not a question and Thorin nodded. “No wonder they fear us so much.”

“We may be human, Fee, but uncle is right,” Kíli said. “They would not accept us.”

“I just wanted to watch,” Fíli said. “Not be accepted.”

“We are simply worried for you,” Thorin said and Fíli looked away. “You know why.”

“Yes,” Fíli agreed, looking away. “I know why.”

“So you'll be careful, right?” Kíli insisted beside him, hoping the presence of their uncle would force him to agree and mean it.

But Fíli thought again of the stranger and lied when he said, “Of course I will be. I always am.”

-0-

Later, Kíli found him combing out his braids, the talismans he wore in them gathered in a small pile on the table in front of him. Kíli plucked up the ruby one, ignoring Fíli's hiss at him to put it back down.

Instead Kíli sat down beside him, still turning the bead over in his fingers. “I wish you didn't have to wear this,” he said.

“It is what it is,” Fíli replied, as he had a dozen times before.

“You're not something to be claimed or marked is all,” Kíli said.

“It's just a bead,” Fíli said, gathering his hair back into one thick braid for sleep.

“He gave it to you as a claim,” Kíli said and they had had this same fight several times already in the last month.

“Because he _has_ claimed me,” Fíli said. “That's what being intended means.”

“You should never have been intended for him,” Kíli said.

“It's already too late for that,” Fíli said, leaning back and watching his younger brother. “Agreements like that are binding, especially here. You know even running away wouldn't change anything. Besides, to be his consort would bring peace to us and ours.”

“At the expense of your happiness?” Kíli asked.

“That's still an assumption,” Fíli said.

“You think you could be happy there?” Kíli asked in disbelief.

“I won't know until I've tried,” Fíli said, plucking the bead from Kíli's hand and turning it over in his own fingers. “It's still months off,” he said, looking at the ceiling instead of his brother. “There is still plenty of time.”

“There will never be enough time,” Kíli protested. “Not to know that I'd lose you.”

“You won't lose me,” Fíli said. “I'm not going to die.”

“It feels like I'm going to lose you,” Kíli said.

“You won't,” Fíli said, leaning forward and taking Kíli's hands, dropping the ruby back on the pile. “Brother, you are never going to lose me, just as I shall never be without you. We are brothers, a bond stronger than any magic can build. I promise you that.”

“When you leave alone it frightens me,” Kíli said, looking at their hands. “More now than ever. There's still so much even we have to fear here, and we grew up in this place.” He tilted his head back, looking up at the carven stone above them, its geometric designs mixed with organic curves and flourishes. “And now you're a target more than ever.”

“As humans we've always been targets.”

“At least Thorin married a fae,” Kíli said, making a face even though he adored his uncle's consort.

“And I shall marry a shape-shifter,” Fíli shrugged. “That should protect me shouldn't it?”

“Including from himself?” Kíli demanded. “Or until that happens?”

“You must stop fretting about things that haven't happened,” Fíli said, tugging on a lock of Kíli's hair. “Trust me. I'll keep myself alive.”

“You've promised which means you must stay to it,” Kíli said.

“Certainly,” Fíli said easily. “So long as _you_ also remember to keep yourself safe.”

“I may be reckless, but I don't wander the forest by myself.”

“I'll be careful,” Fíli insisted again and Kíli finally seemed calm enough to drop Fíli's hands and finally to leave for his own chambers after several more assurances.

After he left Fíli looked at the pile of beads again before he slipped out to the kitchen, sneaking through the halls he had grown up in to gather food to take to the stranger in the morning.

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Bofur woke up his throat was parched and totally different parts of him ached, but he was still in the same hollow.

“Oh,” a small voice said from beside him, and the same boy was there, tugging on one of his braids. “I was starting to worry you wouldn't wake up.”

“I,” Bofur started but he shushed him, holding out a tin mug, plain and utilitarian, like the sort the humans of the town used.

“You need to drink this.”

Bofur cleared his throat again. “Taking food and drink from those of the forest isn't usually advised.”

The boy arched a brow. “You haven't woken up in two days,” he said. “You had a fever, or something. I checked the wound and it wasn't infected so I don't know what caused it. If you could afford to starve yourself for a day or two before, you certainly can't now.”

“I had a,” Bofur started and to speak of it his head did feel strangely woozy and like spiderwebs had taken up a home between his eyes. He had just figured it was the forest itself that made him feel like that.

“I was worried,” the boy said, still holding the cup. “Now, you really should drink something. You'll be useless to try and get out of here at this rate.”

“Get out?” Bofur found himself asking.

“Of the forest,” the boy said. “Did you really think I wanted to keep you here?” he asked, and his tone was causal, his smile almost a little mocking. “Whatever would I use you for?”

“I'd hardly guess what someone like you would need someone like me for,” Bofur said, and he hadn't taken the cup yet. The boy's eyes narrowed and he leaned back.

“Are you going to be this foolish?”

“I don't trust you.”

He blew out a noisy breath, lifting one of the small braids framing his face. “Alright, don't trust me. But you're going to die if you refuse food and drink.”

“Would that bother you?” Bofur found himself asking.

The boy looked even more annoyed. “Well, I did just spend the last few days nursing you through a fever, and before that I spent an awful lot of time stitching and bandaging your wounds, so I would be a _bit_ miffed all my time was wasted, sure. Besides, there's no _point_ to you dying, except stubborn fear. That's not a good death.”

Bofur hesitated before he pushed himself up a little more on his elbows, the boy's face twisting like he wanted to protest. “Is there a good death.”

“I don't know,” the boy said, and shoved the water back at him. This time Bofur actually took it. “But hopefully not all of them would be so senseless. Especially when I just want to help you get home again.”

Bofur took a hesitant sip, and he didn't feel any different so he took another one. “Why?”

“You have a life don't you?” the boy asked, a bit heated. “A home, a family? Why should I want to take you away from those? There's no reason for it.” He paused, looking away. “People shouldn't have to lose that which matters to them.”

Bofur took another sip, finally realizing how thirsty he was and guzzling down the whole cup.

The boy just smiled, handing him a bag, some bread and cheese and an apple shoved into it. “It's not much, but you should start small.”

“I hadn't realized how hungry I was,” Bofur admitted and there was a sound like a rustling and he tensed. The boy had turned his head but he seemed content to settle back down after a moment. “What—what was that?”

“Nothing,” the boy said. “Or at least nothing to worry about. Just someone passing through.”

Bofur paused, cheese halfway in his mouth and he could almost hear Bifur muttering something at his appalling manners. “Where, that is, where is here anyway?”

“It's safe,” the boy said. “As safe as anywhere can be.”

“You're not here the whole time,” Bofur said, and he could feel panic at the back of his throat, because as much as he didn't trust the boy, being alone was by far worse, when he had no way of reading the sounds he might hear.

“No,” the boy agreed and when he shifted his head, all his beads rattled against each other again. “I'm sorry I can't promise this will always be safe. But in the years I've known of it, no one else has entered it.”

Bofur set the bag aside, finished with what was there, even though his stomach still growled. “Come here often?”

The corner of his mouth twitched up and Bofur swallowed hard, because if there had ever been a being sent to tempt mortals with their beauty, it would have had to look like him. “I needed a place to hide,” he said, but sounded fond. “I used to lie here and pretend nothing from outside could get in.”

“Don't you do that anymore?” Bofur asked.

“Well now it's serving another purpose,” the boy said and looked at the entrance again. “I should go.”

“Already?” Bofur asked.

“I was here before you woke up,” the boy said, amused. “And there is much to do still this night.”

“You still haven't told me your name,” Bofur said, not wanting him to go.

“I told you, that has power here,” the boy said, shaking his head and he was already gathering himself to leave. He placed a box next to Bofur. “More oil for the lamp, if you need it. But the less you burn it the better.”

He reached out, even though it pulled his chest too much, making his wounds ache, and grabbed the boy's wrist. He froze, eyes wide as he looked at Bofur. “What are you doing—”

“My name is Bofur,” he said, feeling brave and foolish at once.

The boy's mouth opened but he didn't say anything for a long moment. “Foolish,” he settled for finally.

“You saved my life,” Bofur said. “One way or another you already have power over me, don't you?”

“Don't play with rules you don't understand,” the boy said, and Bofur slowly released his wrist, not wanting to let go. The boy was hot, and Bofur had felt his pulse.

“I owe you,” Bofur said.

“Be quiet,” the boy said. “Don't make this worse. Just,” he ran a hand through his hair, beads cascading against each other. “Just try and sleep. You're probably still a bit feverish.”

“You'll come back though?” Bofur asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Be quiet when I'm gone,” and like that he was gone.

Bofur remained, staring at the roots above his head and the flickering of the candle and hoped they wouldn't be the last things he saw.

-0-

“Why do we keep coming here?” Bombur asked, standing next to Bifur with his hands in his pockets. “They've already said—They aren't going to help.”

Bifur muttered something, angry and harsh and Bombur sighed. There were people walking past them, ignoring them and Bombur would rather be hiding, his grief under wraps where they're prying eyes couldn't see. But he stood by his cousin instead, who was standing firm, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Just seeing us isn't going to change their minds,” Bombur said and Bifur shook his head.

“You're back,” a voice said, approaching the building they were facing rather than coming from it.

“I suppose so,” Bombur said, and he didn't like meeting Bard's eyes on good days. The captain of the guard was considered grim even by the standards of those who lived on the edge of a haunted forest. And Bombur preferred not to be grim.

But now his brother was lost in the forest and no one would send out search parties like the one that had gotten him lost.

Bard sighed, looking away and Bombur wished his cousin was less firm about his insistence that Bofur was alive and they just had to go and find him. Not that he wished it wasn't true—he just knew they weren't ever going to be able to go and find him. “I'm sorry,” Bard said and there was pity in his eyes. Or perhaps it was sympathy. “But the mayor was firm. No one else is to enter the forest.”

Bifur snarled something and Bard glanced at him, before turning back to Bombur. “I cannot simply disobey him.”

“Bifur insists he's alive,” Bombur said.

“I'm sorry,” Bard said again. “But I've said it before. I cannot help you.”

Bifur rattled his walking stick at Bard, who gave him an annoyed look before passing them by.

“Come on,” Bombur said, taking Bifur's arm and starting to pull him away. “We should... we should go home.”

Bifur spat something out and Bombur shook his head. “You really think I don't want him to come home too? But making people angry at us isn't going to help either.” Bifur said something, in the strange garbled language he spoke that Bombur still couldn't understand. Bofur had been better at it. “I don't know what we're going to do, Bifur. We can't just go into the forest ourselves—”

Bifur paused, like he was considering that and Bombur came to total stop. “No, no, you _know_ better.”

The next thing Bifur said was easy enough for Bombur to translate. “It's not that I'm afraid!” he said. “Though you might use some more fear yourself.”

Bifur looked away and when he looked back he reached out, taking Bombur's hand and squeezing. Bombur let out a breath he hadn't fully realized he had been holding.

-0-

Fíli blinked himself awake from where he had fallen asleep in the spring, aware that someone was standing nearby and their presence had woken him up.

“You seem exhausted,” Bilbo remarked and Fíli shook his head, coming down from the panic he has woken up in.

“What gave me away?” Fíli asked, and he stretched his arms before shifting to rest his elbows on the stone edge of the pool. The spring came up naturally, but they had built the pool around it, underneath the halls of his ancestors.

“Falling asleep in the middle of washing your hair perhaps,” Bilbo said and he sat down on the ground in front of Fíli, who rested his chin on his crossed arms.

“Well, I suppose that might be an indication,” Fíli said.

“I'm worried,” Bilbo said.

Fíli let out a frustrated breath. “So is everyone else.”

“Yes, but I don't think everyone else has noticed your lantern is missing,” Bilbo said, casual and like he wasn't furious. Fíli felt his shoulders tense.

“That's not—”

“That lantern is the only way to get past the marsh guards and you know it,” Bilbo said. “If you lost it in the forest that's one thing. But you've been hiding it, which means something else has happened.” Bilbo paused, as if giving Fíli an opening to defend himself but Fíli knew better so Bilbo kept going. “You know your way around the forest, it's true. But if you _had_ encountered the marsh guards, you would never have made it past them.”

“Do you know of a spare lantern lying around?” Fíli asked.

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at him. “Where did yours go?”

Fíli lifted one of his hands, resting his cheek on it as he considered his uncle's husband. Sometimes it was still strange to him, because he could remember mocking Bilbo's name all the way up to the marriage and now he couldn't imagine the hallways of his father's without him. “I can't tell you that,” he said finally.

“So you're not going to try and lie to me?” Bilbo asked, arching one brow.

“Wouldn't be much point,” Fíli said.

“So why won't—or rather can't—you tell me?” Bilbo asked, and even though he was several inches shorter than any of them, he had a particular way of crossing his arms and staring that always made Fíli feel small.

“Because it's not my life I'm most worried about.”

“Smaug's attention to you doesn't matter in all the corners of the forest,” Bilbo said.

“I know,” Fíli said with a wince. “That's—that's not what I mean at all.”

“So this isn't rash arrogance?”

“No,” Fíli said, almost too quickly.

Bilbo uncrossed and then recrossed his arms. “I trust whatever you're doing, you're being careful?”

“Yes, always,” Fíli said. “You helped raise me well.”

Bilbo huffed out a breath. “Nonsense. You were already well into your rebellious teenage years when I arrived and haven't listened to me since.”

“I'm listening to you now,” Fíli pointed out and Bilbo didn't appear mollified by that at all.

“If something happens to you, your uncle would never forgive me for not telling him I knew something was wrong,” Bilbo said. “So it's not just your life it's my marriage on the line.”

Fíli hid a laugh in the crook of his elbow. “Oh, certainly. I'll be careful. The utmost level of careful I can be.”

Bilbo's mouth twitched before his face became grave again. “We're all worried about you, you know that?”

“Most days I feel like that worry will suffocate me,” Fíli said. “Yes, I'm aware of it.”

Bilbo reached out, touching a hand to Fíli's hair and Fíli closed his eyes. “Sadly that is the cross we must bear when we matter to people. Swear to me on the stone you're being careful.”

Fíli paused, because he wasn't certain how careful he could be with a hidden stranger in a hollow in the forest. “By the stone,” he said finally. “I swear I am being careful.”

Bilbo left his hand where it was for a moment before he drew back and pushed himself to his feet. “Well. I suppose I have to trust you then. Now, you should finish your bath, I suspect you already are enough of a prune.”

Fíli laughed, waiting for Bilbo to leave the room before he dunked his head under the water one more time and crawled out. As he squeezed the water out of his hair he paused, eyes going to his wrist where the man—Bofur—had grabbed him earlier, begging him to stay just a moment longer.

Bofur.

He shook his head, cursing his own foolish whims and a man who had no idea what he was doing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes I'm making up my own magic rules as I go...


	3. Chapter 3

Fíli found himself wandering the hallways like he had found himself doing more and more. When it was night and he did not dare to leave to check on Bofur and he could not sleep, he walked instead, trailing his hands along the carved stone, stone where his ancestors had built a home for themselves in a forest full of monsters and fae creatures. His ancestors who had planted themselves and declared they belonged and who had fought and survived.

They had dug themselves deep into the forest and here they had stayed, under the ground and in halls they made for themselves.

“This isn't where this should be,” someone said behind him and before Fíli could tense, a hand had caught one of his braids and yanked it back, curving Fíli's back before releasing him just as suddenly.

“Smaug,” Fíli said, turning abruptly and finding the tall and angular shape-shifter behind him, brows arched. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“It's passed into morning, love,” Smaug said and Fíli felt his eyes narrow at the endearment before he smoothed his expression back out.

“It still seems mighty informal of you.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Smaug said, and Fíli felt like he couldn't stare straight at him too long, his eyes sliding away before he forced them back.

“I do not need to be checked on,” he said.

“We are to be married soon,” Smaug said, casual, as if that wasn't the reason Fíli spent most of his nights wandering around, unable to sleep. “Most people, I hear, spend that time getting to know each other.”

“We already know each other,” Fíli said, too fast and Smaug almost looked amused, as much as he ever looked anything except haughty.

“So you would rather leave that all for later then?” Smaug said and shrugged, as if that did not bother him at all. “Very well. And yet I must protest this again,” and even though Fíli was facing him, he reached forward, Fíli almost leaning away, to tug on the bead he had given him as a gift and now was hidden as much as it could be at the back of his hair. “I did not give you a gift for it to be so shamefully treated.”

“It was not shameful,” Fíli said.

“You simply do not wish to see it yourself,” Smaug said and Fíli's mouth thinned. “I expect my gift to be treated more kindly.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Fíli said, voice as flat as he could make it.

“This hardly has to be as painful as you are making it,” Smaug said, a brow twitching up again.

“Doesn't it?” Fíli hissed, before he could remind himself why to remain silent.

That earned him a chuckle that made a shiver go down his spine. “If that's what you want,” Smaug said, leaning forward again. “I'm certain I could make it so.” He ran a hand down Fíli's cheek and Fíli barely kept himself from jerking back.

“Stop it,” Fíli said and Smaug stepped back.

“It does not have to be so however.”

“I don't believe you,” Fíli admitted and Smaug smiled, cold.

“There's not much I can do about that yet,” he said. He turned, as if to go before looking over his shoulder again. “Oh, but before I go. My gift?”

Fíli stared at him before he reached back, unraveling the braid where he had hidden the ruby in the back of his hair, switching it out for a wooden bead at the braid next to his face. He hated the way Smaug smiled at that as he rebraided the wood talisman in the back of his hair.

“I will see you shortly,” Smaug said and this time he kept going down the hall, leaving Fíli standing in the middle and watching him go.

“Fíli!” and he turned, Ori and Kíli both rushing toward him from the other end of the hall. “I'm so sorry,” Ori said, having been the one to call out. “We were trying to find you and warn you but you weren't in your chambers—”

“I couldn't sleep,” Fíli said blankly and Kíli reached forward, touching the side of his hair.

“This shouldn't be happening,” he said and Fíli shook his head.

“It's fine, Kíli,” he said softly before raising his eyes to Ori. “It's not your fault either.”

“I just wish I'd been able to give you some warning is all,” he said and sighed. “Your my cousin, I just want to watch out for you.”

Fíli didn't say that so did everyone else. “I know,” he said instead, slinging an arm over Ori's shoulder. “Come on, the day is just starting. There's no need to let this taint it all.”

“New day?” Ori asked, arching a brow at him. “I thought you just said you didn't sleep.”

“So?” Fíli asked. “One sleepless night won't hurt me.”

“How about several nights without it?” Kíli asked and Fíli shot a look over his shoulder at his brother.

“Come, brother,” he said with a smile instead. “It won't be that bad.”

Kíli made a distressed sound before he followed Ori and Fíli down the hall, Fíli quite decided on having a good day.

-0-

And it was, until that evening.

Fíli ran through the forest, unable to catch his breath and it wasn't dark yet but there were long shadows and the bone chilling sound of something rustling through all the trees. When he made it home, Kíli was going to kill him and then Thorin was going to string up whatever was left of him.

He rolled into the hollow and threw the leave covered woven branches he used as a door back behind him.

“What—” he heard a voice start to ask as he rushed to Bofur's side, almost knocking the lantern over in his haste to blow it out.

“Quiet,” he said, holding a hand to Bofur's mouth, sprawled out next to him in the darkness. “Don't move, don't speak.”

He felt Bofur draw a breath, like he was about to ask and pressed down harder on his mouth, otherwise staying as still as he might himself, pressed against Bofur's side.

That's when the low pitched screech started, making every hair on Fíli's arms rise. He felt Bofur shift in alarm and curled his fingers tighter again until Bofur went still again. Fíli tried to pace his breathing, rising his chest as little as possible and another bone chilling shriek went up, sounding like metal grinding on stone and yet completely other worldly at the same time.

He almost jumped when Bofur's hand came to press up against his back, Fíli laying over his arm and against his side. Instead he went back to focusing on his breathing, and eventually felt Bofur trying to match him.

They lay in the complete darkness, listening to the howls and shrieks.

They kept on and Fíli knew they would last the whole night, each moment offering the possibility of being discovered. On nights when the Shadow hunted, the only protection was numbers, and even then his family had stone doors filled with magic to close between them and the darkness and they would still all gather in one deep room and spend the night in watchful wariness.

Now he was out in the forest with only another soul to protect and together they made more of a target than apart.

But Bofur had been vulnerable by himself.

And he had taken responsibility for his life into his own hands.

He twitched himself awake, realizing his eyes had fallen heavy, head resting on Bofur's shoulder. Their synced breathing and the sleepless night before were both taking their toll on him and somehow, despite the terror and the worry, he found himself falling asleep.

He drifted in and out several times, each time finding Bofur's hand still against his back and the shrieks still going until he finally opened his eyes and found sick grey light filtering in through the roots above them.

At first he only listened, hearing nothing except Bofur's breath before he slowly lifted his head. At some point during the night his hand had slid off Bofur's mouth but Bofur watched him silently instead of speaking.

Fíli crawled to the opening of the hollow, still listening intently before he removed the woven branches and poked his head outside. There was no movement and dawn had been an hour or two ago. Replacing the covering he collapsed down next to Bofur again, rubbing his face several times.

He felt Bofur reach out, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder in silent question.

“Sorry,” Fíli rasped. “Yes, you can talk now.”

“What was that?” Bofur asked, and his voice sounded hoarse too.

“It's just called the Shadow,” Fíli said. “No one is safe when it's hunting.”

Bofur's face was finally breaking, expression turning to the sheer terror he must have felt the whole night. “And that's just—normal, is it? You just accept that a thing like that exists?”

“It is what it is,” Fíli said, feeling defensive again. “No one knows where it came from or how to stop it, so yes, we endure it.”

Bofur sat up and Fíli reached forward, about to stop Bofur when he realized he probably could sit up now. He was healing more every day after all. “That's insane,” Bofur said. “This whole forest is insane.”

Fíli suppressed his growl as well as his desire to defend his home. “Don't worry,” he said, and since Bofur was already sitting up he reached forward, checking the bandages around his chest. “Only a few more days and you should be well enough to make the journey home.”

Bofur froze, looking at him. “You'd be taking me home?”

“I told you I had no use to keep you here,” Fíli said, unwinding the bandages, clean ones in his bag. “But you must be strong enough to make the journey, it must be during the day, and there are certain days that would be more fortuitous than others. In four days hence, all luck with us, you should be able to leave.”

Bofur was blinking at him. “Really? Just like that.”

“As opposed to what, exactly?” Fíli asked, and even though he had fallen asleep he didn't feel rested. “The longer you stay here the more dangerous it is. The possibility of discovery goes up every day.”

He cast his eyes over Bofur's chest, lightly touching the skin and he felt Bofur suck in a breath. Fíli froze, his fingers on Bofur's bare skin, and realized only belatedly what he was doing.

The moment stretched and finally broke when he drew his hand away abruptly, reaching for the bag he'd brought the night before, finding the clean bandages and food.

“Eat this,” he said, tossing Bofur the hunk of bread and busying himself with cleaning his wounds and checking the stitches he had put in almost a week before.

Bofur did, and neither of them meet each other's eyes.

“I need to go,” Fíli said, wrapping the bandages back around Bofur's chest and trying not to linger or touch too much. “There's enough food until tomorrow I hope.”

“You're good at this,” Bofur said and Fíli froze again, uncertain what _this_ was.

“I,” Fíli floundered.

“Healing, I mean,” Bofur said, looking at the neat bandages. “You've done this before.”

“I was trained for it,” Fíli said. “My uncle's husband.”

Bofur tensed and stared at him. “Uncle's husband?” Bofur asked. “How could there be such a thing?”

Fíli blinked at him. “How could there be such a thing...? Because it is.”

“But,” Bofur said, staring at him and he looked like he might be on the edge of panicking. “Two men cannot marry.”

Fíli almost wanted to laugh as he stared stupidly at Bofur instead. “Wouldn't that be nice,” he settled for finally and Bofur stared at him in confusion. Fíli sighed. “No, I cannot even mean that. Bilbo and Thorin love too much for me to ever begrudge them. They belong together.” He shook his head. “Here in the forest anyone may be wed so long as they love—or so long as it is politically expedient for everyone involved.”

“Political marriages?” Bofur asked. “You have those too?”

Fíli forced himself not to touch the ruby bead now displayed so prominently. “Yes,” he settled for finally.

“But men—if they love, they can wed?” Bofur asked, and the edge of panic was gone, something like longing in its place.

“Yes,” Fíli said. “We have rules, but not for love.”

“And you?” Bofur asked. “Are you wed?”

Fíli reared back, but he forced himself to stay. “Not yet,” he said and Bofur was watching him. “But I will be.”

Bofur considered him. “Have you found yourself a match then.”

And Fíli couldn't help it that time, when he reached up to cover the bead in his hair. “Yes,” he said and Bofur's eyes had followed his hand. “Yes, I have.”

“Well, I wish you all the happiness in the world then,” Bofur said softly and Fíli couldn't breath.

“I have to go,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder before remembering the extra food for Bofur. He fumbled the bag back down, hands shaking as he pulled the food out.

“I'm sorry—” Bofur started.

“It's fine,” Fíli lied. “I must go is all.”

“I didn't mean—”

“Be careful today is all,” Fíli said and he finally crawled out of the hollow, still shaking.

He met Kíli before he made it all the way home, and Kíli's scream made him wince. “I'm fine, Kíli, I was safe,” he said, even though he hadn't been.

“I understand you've had your places in the forest,” Kíli said. “I understand you want your space, now more than ever. I understand why you're running but you didn't come _home_ , and the _Shadow_ was hunting, Fíli you can't do this.”

And Fíli sighed, for all Kíli and their uncle roared and raged at each other, Kíli was never the one who sneaked out a night, or who went missing, or who disobeyed when their king commanded.

But then again Kíli didn't have the weight of all their safety on his shoulders either.

Fíli clapped a hand on Kíli's shoulder, drawing him close to rest their foreheads together. “Brother, if you truly loved me you would wait to yell at me until Thorin can as well, so you can both get it over with at once.”

Kíli sniffed. “You don't deserve that consideration right now,” he said. “I should absolutely yell at you here and now.” But instead he took Fíli's hand and held it the whole way home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some wild UST appears!


	4. Chapter 4

“You're probably lucky Thorin doesn't believe in, what is it, corporal punishment?” Ori said, sitting down beside Fíli and earning an unamused snort in response. “Because I'm pretty sure _I_ want to hit you for last night.”

“Ori, I'm actually out of apologies,” Fíli said. “I cannot endure another one.”

Ori breathed out nosily and for a moment they sat together in silence, Fíli sprawled out and Ori with his knees drawn up to his chest.

“I noticed you moved your gift,” Ori said and Fíli sighed.

“When he came to say hello and meet with uncle,” Fíli said. “Let's just say he commented on it.”

“I was trying to find you—”

“Ori, come on,” Fíli said, shaking his head. “I don't blame you. I'm a little surprised he came so early but I'm going to have to get used to dealing with him on my own anyway.” There was a set to Ori's jaw that made Fíli want to grind his teeth. “You're not going to start on that again, are you?”

“Start on it?” Ori asked. “Fíli, I already told you and I meant it when I said I was coming with you.”

“You should have neither said nor meant it,” Fíli said.

“Oh so you're just going to go alone,” Ori said and they had had some variation of this fight a dozen times already. “The wedding contract says you may have a retainer with you.”

“And you're not a servant,” Fíli said. “You're my cousin.”

“I'm not letting you go alone,” Ori said and they stared at each other again. “Besides, it's not entirely about you. I personally am not ready to cope with Kíli after you get married.”

Fíli winced and Ori seemed to realize that was the wrong thing to say. “Ori—”

“He has others to support him,” Ori said finally. “You're going to be in a new household. You shouldn't underestimate the power of a friendly face.”

“I can't believe your brothers would even consider this in a thousand years.”

“Well it's probably a good thing my family can't control what I do,” Ori said.

Fíli opened his mouth, about to retort that must be nice before he closed his mouth instead. After all, he had never been ordered to tie himself to Smaug. Thorin had in fact brought the proposal to him with a dozen pleas for him to say no.

But they had both known Fíli was going to say yes because the only thing Smaug had ever asked for was him as a consort and their agreement not only meant his family would be safe from Smaug himself but also give them all a stronger position against the other denizens of the forest.

“Tell me any other option that would do as much for us, or keep us as safe,” Fíli had said and Thorin's mouth had thinned as they both knew there was nothing else.

But now that the time was inching closer Fíli felt his own acceptance like it was strangling the air out of him.

“You would be safer here,” he said to Ori instead.

“Honestly, Fíli,” Ori said. “Where is safe?”

“I don't know what it's going to be like in his court,” Fíli said. “It could be anything—”

“All the more reason for me to go with you,” Ori said.

Fíli sighed, leaning forward to rub a hand over his forehead.

“You just find it easier to sacrifice yourself,” Ori said. “Which is how we got into this situation to begin with. Well, if you can make sacrifices to keep those you care about safe, than so can I.” When Fíli lifted his head to stare at him, Ori reached out and took one of his hands in his.

“There's nothing I can say to dissuade you is there?” Fíli said.

“Honestly, when have you ever been able to?” Ori asked. “You haven't been able to convince me not to do exactly what I wanted since I was five.”

“I've convinced you to do some very stupid things since then,” Fíli protested.

“But you always reserve the most stupid for yourself,” Ori said and Fíli had to laugh because otherwise he was going to ill.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he said and Ori leaned forward, resting their foreheads together and Fíli let him because they only did that when they were both feeling vulnerable and needed the comfort.

-0-

Bofur had really stared to hate the tangle of roots above his head.

Even though they were basically the only thing offering him protection from the mad forest, he no longer wanted to stare at them while his stitches itched and he kept thinking over and over about the blond boy looking at him like he was mad or stupid.

That boy who had spend the night curled against Bofur's side, who had been confused by Bofur's confusion because where he came from men were certainly not allowed to _marry_ each other.

Bofur felt like he was going mad himself from starting to wonder what it would be like to stay in the forest instead of going home. There were still so many things he didn't understand, couldn't even comprehend, but the boy seemed to believe there were rules that one simply had to understand.

Except Bofur, above all, couldn't fathom how casually that boy seemed to move through the forest.

At no point could he seem himself doing the same.

Which were all meaningless thoughts considering that there was no actual way Bofur would stay in the forest and no reason worth losing his family for.

He rolled over and tried staring at the dirt wall in front of him in the grey light that meant it was still daylight. He hoped the boy—even though it felt wrong to call him a _boy_ , even in his own head—had been telling the truth when he said it would only be a few more days.

He was going to lose his mind for a reason entirely unexpected in this forest.

There was a rustle and when the boy crawled inside, Bofur let out a long breath, pushing himself up to his elbows. “You came back soon.”

“Well, we need to prepare,” he said, dropping the same bag he usually seemed to carry around between them. “There's a pretty short window that will be the safest to get you out in.”

“Will it be that difficult?”

“Probably not,” the boy said and gave him a narrow eyed look. “Not that you should do it on your own or anything stupid like that. There's plenty of traps for the unwary.”

“And you're not unwary at all.”

“Not generally speaking,” the boy said with a wry twist of his mouth. “That's simply what comes from growing up here.”

“Was it hard?” Bofur asked, because his brain had been running in circles for hours.

“Excuse me?” the boy asked, his eyes snapping up.

“Growing up here,” Bofur asked. “Was it hard?”

The boy's jaw worked for a moment, and Bofur couldn't tell if it was shock or anger that causes his expression. “It depends,” he settled on. “I suppose. On how you want to define something like that.”

“Hardship?”

“I have a strong family,” the boy said. “But this place isn't for the careless or the foolish. I had to learn fast and hard to survive. But hardship? Implies that wasn't joy in that, and the freedom that comes from here.”

“Freedom?” Bofur asked. “Is that how you define living under so many rules?”

“It seems your society has enough of their own rules,” he said, shaking his head and the beads went clanking with the motion. Bofur found his eyes glued to the ruby, which he had noticed had moved earlier but now it felt like a monumental thing to acknowledge.

“What does that mean?”  
“You have rules for who can wed who,” the boy said. “That's living by a set of rules.”

“But it—” Bofur stopped.

“You live in your houses, on your streets, with your conduct judged and measured by those around you,” the boy continued. “You wed according to custom, you find a job by custom, you live under the expectations of a hundred others all yearning to be free but instead chaining each other. Do you really think such an existence is _better_?”

“Do you think yours is?” Bofur asked, because the words had stung.

“It's not better,” the boy said, voice falling soft. “It's simply what it is. It's you and yours who think you're better than _us_.”

“I never said I'm better than you,” Bofur said through his dry throat.

“But you think it,” the boy said, shaking his head again and Bofur was still staring at the red bead. “You expose that with the way you ask your questions.”

They both stopped and a cry went up from outside, all the hair on Bofur's arms standing up.

“That,” he swallowed because the boy had stopped, his eyes raised as if looking at the sky. But he did not motion for him to be silent. “That's not what was the other night, is it?”

“No, that's not the Shadow,” the boy said but he didn't look back down at Bofur. “That is another hunter.”

“Do you think they would hunt us?” Bofur asked.

“No,” he said. “They hunt the sky and we are burrowed down in the ground. It does not make us unnoticeable, but there is plenty of other prey for them.”

“What is it?” Bofur asked.

“A shape shifter,” the boy said and his hand had come up, tugging on the end of the braid with the red bead.

“Do you know them?”

And the boy finally focused on him again, something in his eyes too intent. “Yes,” he said shortly. He reached into the bag he had brought, digging a small knife and a shirt out. “I'm going to take your stitches out today. And I brought some new clothes, though it might be best to save them for when we actually leave.”

“I wish I could do more to regain my strength,” Bofur said.

“Once you leave here you'll have to keep moving,” he said. “I'm sorry, I know being still for so long while healing makes you feel weak.”

“It's hardly your fault,” Bofur settled for and the call came again, the boy's eyes darting up. “Do—do they hunt for a long time?”

“It depends,” the boy said.

“What,” Bofur said and swallowed. “What do they shift into, anyway? When they change their shape I mean.”

“They can go from being a man to being a dragon,” the boy said, voice flat and Bofur stared at him.

“A dragon? They change into a _dragon_?”

“I think they originally were a dragon,” the boy shrugged. “His human aspect is the change.”

“Dragons aren't real,” Bofur protested and the boy laughed.

“What in this forest was real to you before you came inside?” he asked, voice almost light.

“I certainly did not expect to find humans here,” Bofur admitted and that seemed to catch the boy's attention, his eyes snapping to Bofur. “Humans who found a way to survive here, to make a life for themselves. All the stories would insist it wasn't possible.”

“They just want to discourage people from running into the forest themselves,” the boy said, and his voice was artificially light, as if he was teasing.

“Yes,” Bofur agreed. “Probably. It's dangerous though, despite your survival?”

“Anywhere is dangerous,” the boy said. “But we have our own unique problems, that's true.”

“I just never expected you,” Bofur admitted, and it felt like it hurt a little to say. “You saved my life. You've kept me safe. You even tried to explain as best you could how this world works. I've never met someone like you before in all my life.”

The boy stared at him, something in his expression feeling wrong. “You give me too much credit.”

“I don't think you understand,” Bofur said and he reached forward, the boy watching him the whole time until Bofur slid a hand around the back of his neck. Frowning, the boy tilted his head and it was only when Bofur had almost closed the distance he seemed to realize what Bofur intended.

He was pushed back, but he didn't release the boy, which meant he was dragged down with Bofur.

“What are you thinking?” the boy hissed.

“I just,” Bofur started.

“You cannot kiss me,” the boy continued, and there was something like panic in his expression.

“I thought you said men could marry,” Bofur said. “Surely they must be able to kiss.”

The boy made an annoyed sound, shaking his head, but Bofur's hand was still tangled in the back of his hair, and he braced himself over Bofur. “That's not at all—there is a curse on my mouth.”

“What?” Bofur asked.

“I told you,” the boy said. “That I was intended for someone. He put a curse on my mouth to ensure I remained faithful until we could be wed. It would put both of us in a stupid amount of danger if you—”

“Does he,” and Bofur's breath caught because he had somehow convinced himself the boy was going to marry a nice girl, and be happy, and not at all share whatever desires Bofur had. “Does he not trust you then?”

The boy stared at him, and his expression slowly shifted to sorrow. “It's not a love match,” he said finally.

“Why isn't it?” Bofur asked, offended on his behalf.

“Because sometimes that's just what happens,” he said softly. “I do not love him, and he, as far as I can tell, does not love me. But we will be bound and in the meantime you cannot kiss me.”

“I wish I could,” Bofur admitted, and he slid his hand down, so he could frame the boy's face, bringing his other hand up too.

“Why?” the boy asked, brows furrowing.

Bofur felt a laugh bubble up in his chest and tried to suppress it. “You saved my life. You're beautiful. Why wouldn't I want to kiss you?”

The boy opened his mouth and slowly closed it again. “I'm sorry,” he settled for.

“So am I,” Bofur decided and the boy looked away, closing his eyes until Bofur finally released his face.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Mom's home,” Kíli said and Fíli's head snapped up from where he had been lying on his stomach, flipping idly through a book Bilbo had lent him.

“Any news?” Fíli asked, not quite hope blooming under his chest but Kíli only shook his head.

They entered the main hall together, Dwalin already in conference with both Dís and Thorin, Bilbo standing a little behind his husband.

They all looked grim and unhappy so Fíli stalled his steps, the last hope that he might not have to go through with the marriage shriveling in his chest. “I suppose the request to Thranduil didn't take?” he said and his mother's eyes were dark.

“He says he has no desire for an alliance,” she said, as she had been away at his underground caverns for several weeks, trying to negotiate a new treaty.

“We all knew that would be most likely,” Thorin said.

“Aye, but it was worth trying,” Dwalin said, his arms crossed over his chest and the rest of the family had started filtering in to greet Dís on her return.

“I don't understand why he wouldn't be willing to help us,” Kíli protested. “Wouldn't we have more to gain together than apart? We could be strong enough _together_ to convince Smaug to leave us alone.”

“He doesn't think anything would deter Smaug,” Dís said, shaking her head. “Especially if we had something he wanted, which we so often seem to.”

“He's a damned coward,” Dwalin said.

“Probably,” Thorin agreed. “I'm surprised he's not worried about _us_ and Smaug forming an alliance against him.”

“He's convinced we're sending Fíli to him to get him off our back and that there will be no alliance,” Dís said.

“Which to be fair, Smaug _hasn't_ offered us an alliance,” Bilbo said. “He's in fact shown no interest in one at all. What he's offered is more of a non-aggression pact.”

“Which fits his more general pattern of having no alliances,” Thorin said and shook his head, looking over at Fíli who had not reacted since he heard there would be no alliance. “You don't have to do this.”

“Of course I do,” Fíli said. “We both know that walking out now would only do more damage than simply turning him down the first time.”

“He killed your great-grandfather,” Thorin said.

“I am excruciatingly aware of that,” Fíli said. “He's hunted us for generations, stolen what he could and killed who he wanted. That's exactly why, at least for one generation, I want to stop that. He's never asked for anything from us before, he's only taken it. So no, I can't not do this.”

“There should be another way,” Kíli said.

“And if he killed you?” Fíli snapped and Kíli clicked his mouth shut angrily. “Could I forgive myself knowing I could have stopped that?”

“You won't be able to control him,” Dwalin said and Fíli's eyes flickered over.

“I know,” he said. “But there are agreements, rules. Even he is not known for breaking his own word and if he wants me, well, there are conditions.”

“You realize for all your talk, you're putting yourself in the most danger, don't you?” Dwalin asked and Fíli stared at him.

“Of course I am,” he said. “That's one of the reasons I wanted to go alone.”

That earned a faint chuckle from Dwalin. “Ah, lad, you should have realized that was never going to happen.”

Fíli's mouth thinned and Kíli shot him a quick look. “Well, I might as well be allowed to hope for something.”

“I honestly have no idea where you picked up such a self-sacrificial streak,” Bilbo said dryly, breaking the tension that had been rising and earning a look from Thorin. Bilbo slipped his arm through Thorin's, beaming up at him. “Besides, we should move to the dining hall. Dís has just come home from a fairly hazardous journey and must be hungry by now.”

Thorin's mouth twitched at him, and he nodded.

Dís stayed behind to walk with Fíli at the end of the longer procession. “Bilbo. Always the peacemaker, isn't he?”

“I remember you not liking him much when he first arrived,” Fíli said, and it had been an interesting few months after the wedding, Thorin actively hiding from his husband until Bilbo finally started yelling at him in the middle of the great hall. It had taken Dís another several months after Thorin had warmed to him to do the same. Fíli mostly remembered him and his brother spending those first months trying to distract Bilbo while their uncle floundered.

“That was quite a while ago,” Dís pointed out. “He's grown on me since then. Like a moss.”

Fíli stifled a laugh at that, stopping when his mother put a hand on his arm, stopping them both in the hallway. “How are you?” she asked softly.

“As well as I can be,” Fíli said, not quite willing to meet her eyes suddenly.

“You know we're worried,” she said. “And your uncle says you've been disappearing more and more frequently. You've always wandered the forest by yourself and I would hardly try and constrain you now. But he mentioned you were caught out a night when the Shadow was hunting Fíli. You _know_ better than to do that.”

“It caught me by surprise is all,” Fíli said. “You know we can never predict when it will go out hunting.”

“I don't suspect you're being reckless in an attempt to become grievously injured or even die before you have to go through with the wedding, even subconsciously,” Dís said and Fíli blanched at her. “I know you better than that, even if Thorin has started to worry that may be the case. So there must be some other reason for this foolishness.”

Fíli stared at her, a hole opening up in his chest as he realized he had missed his mother so terribly for the weeks she was gone, followed in a second by knowing he soon would be parted from her for a much longer time. “There is something,” he said softly, and he almost wanted to touch where Bofur had earlier, just to remember what those hands on his face had felt like. “I know I've been more reckless, and I promise it will end soon.”

“But you are not willing to tell me what it is,” Dís said and Fíli could only shake his head. “Be careful, my son. I know you have enough people already breathing that down your neck but I must add my voice to the chorus.”

“I'm being careful,” Fíli said, the same lie coming easily off his tongue again.

She searched his face for a long moment before finally nodding, and she took his hand as they finally continued their aborted walk into the dining hall, where the rest of the family was already seated. No one commented on their lateness as Fíli slid into a seat beside his brother.

-0-

“Oh not again, brother,” Kíli said, and Fíli wanted to curse his luck that Kíli had caught him near the door.

“I don't—” Fíli started.

“You're leaving.”

“It's a calm day,” Fíli said. “There are no hunts, no ill moons, and the fae are away at a feast today. I just need some air and space.”

“Then let me come with you,” Kíli said, and Fíli winced. “You know, you used to not mind me accompanying you,” Kíli said and Fíli felt his stomach twist up, painful.

“Brother—”

“You should be spending time with us,” Kíli said. “Your family. We don't know what it may be like after Smaug—”

“He won't be able to keep us from seeing each other,” Fíli said. “That's—that's written in the contract—”

“But how often, Fíli?” Kíli demanded. “A month? A year?”

“Kili—”

  
“I'm about to lose you and you keep running away,” Kíli said.

Fíli reached forward, pulling his brother into an embrace and burying his face in Kíli's dark hair. “Brother, brother I _know_.”

“Why can't you let me help you deal with this?” Kíli asked, and his face was mashed against Fíli's shoulder, making his voice muffled. “Why must you do so much of it alone?”

“Tomorrow, brother, I promise,” Fíli said.

“Are you hiding something from me?” Kíli asked and honestly Fíli should have told Kíli from the beginning. But he had feared Thorin finding out, and Kíli had always struggled to lie to their uncle. Not to disagree with him, but to disobey his wishes.

But now his brother and mother had figured out he was hiding something on the very day he hoped that he would return Bofur to his home.

“If I am,” he settled for finally. “It will soon be over.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“It shouldn't be,” Fíli said, because he was going to leave Bofur on the side of the town and leave. He would probably never see the man again and something about that made his chest ache. He wanted to bury his face in Bofur's chest and hold on, because the man was kind and strange and he looked at Fíli like he was a marvel, not a possession.

“Be very careful, brother,” Kíli settled for and stepped back, letting Fíli go. Fíli reached forward, tucking a stray strand of his brother's hair back before slipping away, wanting more than anything to not go, to keep Bofur in the forest, and to hide away with him for as long as they could.

-0-

“This is embarrassing,” Bofur said, as he stumbled and the boy caught him for the fourth time in as many steps. The first four he had managed away from the hollow.

“You've been laid low with fever and injuries,” the boy said. “And unable to regain your strength. For that you've been managing well.”

“By falling over?” Bofur groused and the boy couldn't help but smile at him.

“I'll help you,” he said instead and Bofur honestly couldn't stand the easy way the boy slid an arm around his waist, supporting him.

“Lad—”

“Oh don't you start on that,” the boy said. “Only my cousin can get away with calling me that.”

“I don't think you'd like what I've defaulted to calling you in my head then,” he said before he could stop himself and the boy raised his brows at him.

“No?”

“I have nothing else to call you,” Bofur said and they were standing still, under the dappled light of the trees, the boy's arm still supporting his waist and Bofur wanted to stay there for as long as he could, that suspended moment. “So I just think of you as the boy.”

“You're right, I do rather dislike that,” he said and looked away. Bofur almost said something else and decided against it when he looked back. “At any rate, we should be leaving.”

“Yeah,” Bofur agreed, unhappily and the boy fussed for a moment, making sure his sack was slung properly over his back and Bofur leaning against him for support before they started off.

For a while they walked together in silence and Bofur found himself fascinated by the trees of the forest he had never dared look at before. “The trees don't look like the ones we have in the town,” he said and the boy looked over.

“There are many kinds of trees,” he said.

“But,” Bofur shrugged, uncertain how he wanted to explain that these trees not only felt old, but like they were watching, covered in moss and with a blanket of leaves beneath them. “They feel different too.”

“There are corners of the forest you should never go into,” the boy said. “The trees there tempt you to lay at their feet and then they swallow you into the ground.”

Bofur almost tripped. “Trees _eat_ people?”

“Some of them do,” the boy said, amused. “You learn how to avoid them.”

“Do you ever think about leaving?” Bofur asked.

“Leaving?” the boy asked, looking over at him. “Leave the forest?”

“Why not?” Bofur asked. “You didn't look very happy about your—well your engagement.”

“I'm doing it for my family,” the boy snapped and Bofur wished he had kept his mouth shut.

“But not for yourself?” he asked. “That's a terrible reason to marry someone.”

“And you think I would be happier where you live?” the boy asked. “You want me to run away with you instead? You think I could be happy, in one place? In one town? Where they judge you and judge you and you're constrained by what they think so much you couldn't even love who you wanted? How would that be better than marrying Smaug?”

“Smaug?” Bofur asked, almost tripping. “Who is Smaug?”

The boy cringed, realizing he had said a name when usually he was careful. “The hunter the other day. The shape shifter. His name is Smaug.”

Bofur started, almost tripping again. “You didn't—You're marrying a dragon?” Bofur asked.

“I said,” the boy said, still not meeting his gaze or even looking toward him. “I'm doing it to protect my family.”

“I guess that explains the red of the ruby,” Bofur said and the boy's head whipped over, sending all his beads clanking each other again.

“Why are you still—”

“Because I wish you could be happy,” he said and the boy's brows flinched together. “You saved my life. You _saved my life_. I wish I could do anything in return.”

The boy paused, one arm still around Bofur's waist but the other one came up, gently laying his fingers on the side of Bofur's face, brow furrowed and hand shockingly tender. “I did not do this to earn a favor.”

“I think that's impossible to avoid when you save someone's life,” Bofur said, because some rules weren't exclusive to the forest.

“I'll be fine,” the boy whispered. “I always have been.”

“And I guess I'll be going back to my normal life,” Bofur said. “With just the memory of you.”

The boy's jaw worked, hesitating before he spoke. “Fíli. My name is Fíli.”

“I thought you said names have power,” Bofur said and they were standing out in the open.

“They do,” the boy—Fíli said. “But I wanted you to have it.”

His fingers were still warm against Bofur's face. “Thank you,” he said, in the shade of the trees and Fíli nodded, before he dropped his hand and started pulling Bofur forward again.

“We, we're almost out of the forest,” he said. “You'll be home soon.”

“I know,” Bofur said, and couldn't help the sorrow in his chest for all he had wished to be home. Slowly, the trees around them started to thin out until in front Bofur could see no more, and in the distance smoke rising over the town.

“We must part now,” Fíli said. “You can make it, can't you?”

“I can,” Bofur said and they stared at each other for a long moment. “Fíli,” Bofur said, liking the way the name tasted in his mouth. “I wish you—I with you all the love and all the luck you can find in your life. I hope you're going to be happy.”

“I,” Fíli started to say, so distracted by staring at him they didn't notice there was someone approaching, until there was the sound of yelling.

“Get him!” someone yelled, and Bofur realized too late he knew the name. “He has Bofur—” and before Bofur could protest, or stop what was happening, weak as he was to begin with, someone had knocked Fíli to the ground. The boy snarled and fought the whole way down as Bofur also fell and he had never realized what a fighter the boy was. But even he couldn't succeed against a whole regiment of the guards.

“Leave him alone!” Bofur tried to yell but was ignored as Fíli was dragged to his feet, kicking and snarling the whole way. “Leave him—” And there were hands helping him to his feet now but Fíli was being dragged away. “Stop,” he tried again. “Stop he saved my life—” But no one seemed to be listening to him.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being sick suuuucks. Anyway, I also amended the warnings but before anyone panics I would like to remind everyone this is a fairytale au, and is going to be more of a fairytale than a tragedy.

Bofur fumbled after Fíli and the guards, until one of them seemed to notice his staggering and stopped to help him. “It's okay, Bofur,” he said. “You're home now.”

“That's not,” Bofur started, and Fíli was still struggling against the men holding him as they dragged him closer to the town. For one moment he managed to flip underneath one of their arms, breaking toward the forest before being tackled again. “I—Stop it! Stop it you don't have to treat him like this!”

“He kidnapped you Bofur,” the guard helping him said. “You've been gone for weeks.”

“I know I've been gone he didn't kidnap me—”

“That's what the spell he has on you wants you to believe,” the guard said with pity in his eyes and Bofur wished he was strong enough to shove him away, but he had been leaning on Fíli for much of the walk and was still exhausted.

And the struggling and yelling had already attracted attention as they walked from the clearing along the side of the town into the neatly arranged rows of houses themselves. There were already villagers gathering at the outskirts, staring at Fíli and pointing and Bofur wanted to yell at all of them to just look away.

“What is the meaning of this?” Bard asked, and it was obvious he had been at home with his children, as he came running and pulling his guard captain coat on.

“We found him at the edge of the forest,” the guard said. “He was carrying Bofur.”

“Bofur?” Bard asked in surprise, his eyes darting over to him in surprise. “You're alive?”

“Yes,” Bofur said quickly. “But this is unnecessary, he doesn't have to be taken like some sort of prisoner.”

“He kidnapped you and has you under some sort of spell,” the guard holding him said and Bard's eyes darted from Bofur to Fíli, who had finally stopped struggling to stare at Bard.

“He did no such thing,” Bofur protested. “He saved my life.”

“If I had kidnapped him why would I have brought him within sight of your town?” Fíli snarled.

“To gloat,” one of the guards said.

“To gloat? What even is the point of that?” Fíli demanded.

Before anyone else could respond, Bombur and Bifur finally joined the gathering crowd. “Bofur!” Bombur cried, running forward, Bifur following more slowly and keeping his eyes mostly on Fíli who was watching the reunion rather than any of the guards surrounding him. “Bofur you're back,” Bombur said, throwing his arms around Bofur.

“Brother,” Bofur said, a bit winded. “I—it's so good to see you again.”

“Bifur kept trying to convince someone to go looking in the forest for you but everyone said you must already have been dead.”

“No,” Bofur said, squeezing his brother's shoulders. “It's okay, I don't think they would have found me even if a search party had gone out. I was well hidden.”

“Hidden?” and Bombur seemed to finally notice Fíli, who was still watching them. “Oh my,” Bombur managed.

Bard cleared his throat, looking at Fíli and then the assembled villagers. “Well, if what he says is true there's no need for—”

“Surely you're not about to say what I think you are,” someone said by Bard's elbow and Bard stopped, looking down.

“Alfrid,” he greeted warily.

“If this creature is from the forest—”

“ _Creature_?” Fíli said and Bofur cringed.

“Then surely it's up to the Master of this town what must be done with him—well. It.”

“It?” Fíli managed again, voice even higher. “You moronic, sniveling—”

One of the guards holding him hit him across the face. “Be more respectful.”

“Stop,” Bofur started, surging forward but Bombur held him still.

“That's unnecessary,” Bard snapped, stepping forward. “There is no reason for any of this.”

Fíli worked his jaw before straightening himself slowly back up, looking straight ahead.

“All of it?” Alfrid asked. “Surely you would not question the will of the Master of this town, being as you are the captain of the guard here? You weren't considering letting _it_ go where you?”

“He's not an it,” Bofur said. “And he hasn't put some spell on me, I swear it, he's just—”

Fíli's eyes flickered toward him briefly and Bofur snapped his mouth shut. Bard considered Alfrid for another long moment before his shoulders sagged. “No, I cannot disagree with the Master's wishes.”

“Excellent,” Alfrid said with a smile that really should have fooled no one. “Then, if you will,” and the whole procession was moving forward again.

“Bofur, we should get you home,” Bombur said and Bofur scowled at him.

“I will hobble after them, brother,” he said and Bombur chewed his lip for a moment before starting forward, at the very back of the group. Fíli had finally stopped struggling, and from behind Bofur could see his head moving from side to side as he considered the town and all the people who had come to gawk.

“This isn't right,” Bofur said.

“Are you certain there was no spell?” Bombur asked, looking at him in concern. “You look terrible.”

“Because I was injured,” Bofur said. “It's been a long day on top of that. But yes, I'm certain there was no spell. I'm not even certain he could cast any.”

“He's a creature of the forest, isn't it?”

“He saved my life and risked his own to help me,” Bofur said, and his body ached. All he wanted to do was lie down and let his protesting body rest. “He didn't have to do any of that, Bombur.”

Bombur chewed the inside of his cheek as they walked, Alfrid leading the way up to the Master's large hall. Bofur had always hated the hall, hated that the leader of their town was so comfortable with his wealth while his people often lived in hovels or starved.

“And what's this?” the man in question asked, coming out his front door.

“He was found at the edge of town,” Bard said, emphasizing the use of _he_. “With Bofur, who has been returned to us alive. He insists this man helped him and has returned him. The guards preemptively decided to capture him.”

“As well they should have,” the Master said and something in Bard's expression tightened.

“There is no need for it,” Bard said. “If what Bofur says is true and he was helping him, this is a poor way to repay him.”

“But he is a creature of the forest,” the Master said. “They are often so... different from the rest of us.”

“Creature?” Fíli asked again, shaking his head slightly, braids rattling together. “Creature? I am human, like the rest of you.”

“Now that I find hard to believe,” Alfrid said.

Fíli shot him a dark look. “It is simple fact.”

“But you come from the forest,” Bard pointed out. “We know of no humans who live there.”

“Just because you do not know of us,” Fíli said, watching him. “We have been there for centuries, surviving in our own ways. That does not make us any less what we were born and that is as humans.”

“Why remain in such a dark and frightening place then?” Alfrid asked, confident in the superiority of his own world.

“Because I would rather live in such a dangerous and dark place than ever in a place such as _this_ ,” Fíli said. “Were you do not even know the rules of hospitality.”

“Hospitality? You are an enemy,” Alfrid said.

“ _How_?” Fíli asked. “Have I raised a weapon at you? Have I fought except in self defense? Did I not bring back one of your lost? What sort of enemy do you think I have been to you?” Fíli laughed, not amused, and shook his head. “Do you think I have valuables? Is that what this is about?” He spread his arms out, startling several of the guards who were still surrounding him. “Do I look like I have anything of value?”

The Master took the stairs down and Fíli watched him the whole way, only flinching when he reached out to flick the ruby bead at the side of his face. “Nothing?”

“A sliver of ruby,” Fíli said. “You're right, I do have one thing of value.”

“Is your family very wealthy?”

“What?” Fíli asked, jaw dropping in horrified disgust. “You—you think you could ransom me? When you cannot even step foot inside the forest?”

“Stop it,” Bofur said, stepping forward. “He's right—he's done nothing to deserve this treatment. He saved my life, nursed me to health when I was injured and then brought me home. Let him go, he's done nothing.”

“How do we know he's not lying? Or put you under a spell?” Alfrid asked and Bard crossed his arms over his chest, looking over at Bofur himself.

“He saved my life,” Bofur repeated stubbornly. “Isn't that enough?”

He barely dared to glance at Fíli, who was watching him.

“If you intent to hold him,” Bard said, breaking the silence. “You must have some idea of what to do with him. Simply kidnapping him makes us no better than you are accusing him of being. We have few prison cells. If he has committed no crime, let him go.”

“We can hardly determine if he has committed any crimes so quickly,” the Master said, shaking his head.

“We have Bofur's own testimony,” Bard said.

“If we can trust he has not been bewitched.”

“And how would you be able to tell otherwise?” Bard asked.

“He could still be dangerous,” Alfrid insisted.

“We have no way to know that,” Bard said. As they talked, Fíli looked from one to the other, his face impassive.

“He could still be rich,” the Master said and Bard's face tightened again. Beside him, Bombur squeezed Bofur, offering him what little support he could while Bifur stood silently on his other side.

“Do you order me to imprison him then?” Bard asked, voice leashed.

“Yes, I do believe so,” the Master said with a smug grin and Fíli only had a moment to stare at him before he was grabbed again, the guards starting to pull him away.

“No! What is wrong with you people? Do you have any idea what you're doing? Let me _go_.”

“Are you threatening us?” Alfrid asked, watching him be pulled away.

“Threat?” Fíli asked. “I want to be released and go home.”

“Not until you give us a good enough reason to let you go!” the Master said, sounding happy and Bofur looked at the ground, shame curling cruel inside him. He looked up in time to see Fíli jerk, as if to reach for him as he was pulled past but it was over too quickly and Fíli was gone.

“It's good to have you back, of course,” the Master said into the silence and Bofur could only gape at him.

“Thank you,” Bombur said for both of them. “We're all... very happy he's home.”

The Master nodded, like he was already bored before turning away, strolling easily back into his over large house.

Bofur sagged hard against Bombur's side, his exhaustion catching up all at once. “I feel sick,” he murmured.

“We're getting you home,” Bombur promised, starting to steer him away.

“Bofur!” Bard called before he could get much further. “I—I am sorry. You know I would not—”

“It doesn't make much difference,” Bofur said, fury and shame in him in equal parts. “Now does it?”

Bard's mouth thinned but he inclined his head, accepting the blow. “Still. It is good you're home. Your brother and cousin have both been begging for search parties to go after you. If I had realized there was any hope—”

“It's fine,” Bofur said, tight. “Thank you. But I must return home.”

“Of course,” Bard said, muted.

Bifur curled one hand around Bofur's arm as they walked, leaning as close against him as he could without tripping them all on the ground.

“I missed you too,” Bofur said, throat tight, and as pleased as he was to see them, and as much as he had not been looking forward to never seeing Fíli again, he wished more than anything Fíli had not hesitated before leaving him at the edge of the town.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like using Alfrid very much, except when I need someone to conflict with Bard and piss him off in less than five seconds flat.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally feel slightly less like death warmed over! Have a chapter in celebration.

Bofur had barely collapsed into a chair in front of the fire and gotten a cup of tea from Bombur when a knock came at the door.

“Who could that be?” Bombur asked, frowning.

“I'm certain I don't want to know,” Bofur said, sore and angry but Bifur flung the door open with a scowl.

Bard stood on the other side, despite them having spoken only half an hour before, and he looked like he had been agitated since. “What do you want?” Bofur said, some of his anger leaking onto the nearest target. “You already made your excuses and—”

“May I come in?” Bard asked Bifur, ignoring Bofur.

Bifur narrowed his eyes at him a moment before shrugging and stepping away from the door, gesturing with one arm.

“Thank you,” Bard said, and he had to bend his head down slightly to get inside the front door. Bofur and Bifur had built it themselves, and all three of them were much shorter than Bard was. “I already apologized. I already said this isn't what I wanted.”

“Then why are you here?” Bofur asked, pushing himself up in the chair slightly.

“You were in the forest for weeks, Bofur,” Bard said. “You understand, don't you, about the rules they have, the laws they follow to survive?”

Bofur frowned at him, Bombur and Bifur both openly staring at both of them. “Do you?”

“I have spent as much time as anyone in the forest aside from you,” Bard said. “Do you know anything about that boy besides the fact he saved your life?”

“He hates being called boy,” Bofur said and Bard's brow twitched slightly up. “He's engaged to a dragon and has a family very likely to come looking for him.”

“He's— _Dragon_?” Bombur managed and Bard stared at him. “Th—there's a dragon?”

“Apparently,” Bofur said. “Never saw him myself but—” He narrowed his eyes at Bard. “You're not asking to get information for a ransom, are you?”

“No,” Bard shook his head rapidly. “The point is, he would be missed and there are dangers from the forest we hardly want to invite to our town.”

“Look, you could have asked this before he was dragged away—”

“I cannot disobey the leader of our town,” Bard said, shaking his head and making a jerking motion with one of his hands over the table he stood next to. “I have been known to be perhaps not as attentive to my belongings as I should be. Comes from the chaos of raising three children perhaps.”

“What?” Bombur asked and Bofur made a shushing motion at him.

“Those three children who I intend to spend the rest of my night with,” Bard added, meeting Bofur's eyes and Bofur felt his chest leap. “And do not intend to be pulled away from for anything. Good night, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur,” and he nodded to each of them in turn before turning and heading for the door.

“What on earth?” Bombur said in confusion but Bofur was scrambling out of the chair. Bifur beat him to the table, holding up the key that had been dropped there. “Seriously?” Bombur asked.

“He must have dropped it in town,” Bofur said, grinning widely.

“You can't be serious,” Bombur said. “Bofur, you look like you're going to pass out. We're not about to go _break someone out of prison_.”

-0-

“I can't believe we're breaking someone out of prison,” Bombur said, and he and Bofur were plastered against the side of the building in question.

Bofur motioned him to be quiet, as Bifur was out causing a brawl in the pub, attempting to draw the most guards away as possible. It was night, so most of them were already home with their families, but with the addition of Fíli to the prison Bofur suspected more were on duty than usual.

Almost on cue, several of them came running out and headed for the tavern. “I hope Bifur managed to make the fight look like it wasn't his idea,” Bombur muttered.

“He's good at that,” Bofur said. “Come on. We have to work fast.”

Bombur made another concerned sound as they slipped inside the back door Bard had given them the key for. “For your sake as much as anything.”

“I'm fine,” Bofur said, even though he wasn't much at all. He just hoped all of Fíli's hard work at fixing him wasn't about to be undone.

They made it down the stairs were the cells were, hearing voices and Bofur sped up.

Fíli was out of the cells, one of the guards holding him as he fought, another one holding the ruby bead that had obviously been taken out of his hair. “You're a pretty one, for a wild thing, the guard was saying. “Just one kiss wouldn't hurt would it?” Fíli froze and Bofur could almost feel his panic all the way from the stairs.

But Bofur had never been more thankful for his brother, or that the guards had taken their helmets off. Because Bombur used his momentum coming down the stairs and a kettle that was sitting on the table to knock the guard holding the beat out cold before he even saw Bombur coming.

The other guard started to turn, distracted for a moment from Fíli, who twisted himself out of his grasp. As the guard turned back to him Fíli slammed his head against the wall several times until he crumpled on the ground.

“Did, did you kill him?” Bofur asked.

“I don't think so,” Fíli said, shaking his head and stepping back before he actually focused on Bofur. “What—?”

“You need to go,” Bofur said, bending down to pick up the ruby bead that had rolled away from the first guard and handing it back to Fíli. “Now. I don't know if anyone heard or how many might be coming.”

Fíli stared at him before curling his fingers around the bead and Bofur's hand. Bofur felt his breath catch, Fíli meeting his eyes. “You came for me.”

“You have to go,” Bofur repeated, Bombur watching the stairs.

Fíli dropped his hand, looking around before spotting the bag he carried on the table, its contents spread around. He shoved them back inside the bag and Bofur recognized the lamp that had been his only company for hours at a time as it disappeared inside. When everything was back inside Fíli paused, turning back to Bofur and they both stopped again.

“I'm going to miss you,” Bofur found himself saying and Fíli stepped toward him, stopping when they were almost touching. “I'm going to miss you so much.”

“I,” Fíli started, and even though Bofur knew they didn't have the time he couldn't force himself to look away or urge Fíli to move faster. His breath caught again when Fíli leaned forward suddenly and Bofur thought frantically about the fact Fíli wasn't supposed to kiss anyone before he realized Fíli had tucked his face against the side of Bofur's neck, his hand on the opposite side of Bofur's face. They stayed like that for a second, and Bofur thought it might have been the most shockingly intimate thing to ever happen to him, to feel Fíli breathe against him, his hand trembling slightly.

“Thank you,” Fíli said finally and then he was gone like a whirlwind, running up the stairs.

“Shit,” Bombur said when he was gone. “You're in love with him.”

Bofur gave him a half panicked look, feeling the cold emptiness of where Fíli was and he couldn't begin to deny that was the case.

Instead he took off after Fíli, because it wasn't like it would be good for them if they were found in the prison with two unconscious guards and no Fíli.

He ran through the town, following the flash of Fíli's gold hair until they reached the edge of town, Bofur completely out of breath. He watched as Fíli reached the edge of the trees, Bombur having kept pace with him and coming to a stop beside him and giving him a support when he might have fallen over.

At the edge of the forest, Fíli stopped.

By the light of the moon Bofur watched him turn around, meeting his eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment before Fíli finally looked away. He disappeared into the trees and Bofur watched a long time, wondering if he could still see the flash of blond or if that was just his imagination.

“How are we going to explain it wasn't us that broke him out?” Bombur asked.

“Sorry brother,” Bofur said. “I hadn't really thought that far ahead.”

“I'm sorry,” Bombur said and Bofur finally looked at him. “That you had to let him go.”

“It,” Bofur said and looked down. “I guess it is what it is. I could never have had him anyway.”

“I just didn't realize you were coming home with a broken heart too,” Bombur said and Bofur buried his face in his little brother's shoulder, letting him lead him home.

-0-

Fíli ran through the forest, headless of the branches or the darkness, or the cries he could hear from time to time in the darkness.

He ran from his pain and his own rage until finally he couldn't go any further from it. Stopping, he punched the tree in front of him, yelling before falling to his knees on the leaf covered ground and trying to breathe.

More than anything he hated how much he wished he could have kissed Bofur, and had been unable to. Instead, he had held him, lips carefully held back from his skin, and it hadn't been enough.

Now, now if everything worked out like it had always been planned, he would never see him again.

He buried his face in his hands, breathing instead of crying.

But it was still dark out, and he was alone, and though it had been a calm day, that meant nothing about the night.

Slowly, he forced himself to his feet again, pulling the lantern out of the bag and lighting it, wondering all the time about how quickly someone could insert themselves into a person's heart. When the flame came to life he wondered how long, exactly, Bofur was likely to stay there.

-0-

Dwalin found him first, as he was sitting outside the gates with his own lantern, waiting.

“Lad,” he said, rising to his feet and Fíli, for once, hardly cared about his own image, or his pride, and he collapsed against Dwalin's chest, clinging. “Lad?”

“I'm sorry,” Fíli said. “I just—I need—a moment of this before you start yelling at me.”

Dwalin's shoulders came down and he wrapped an arm around Fíli. “Your brother has been pacing the halls all night, worried sick.”

“I know,” Fíli mumbled.

“Lad, what happened? I won't yell at you.”

“Oh, you can't make that promise,” Fíli said, almost laughing as he clung to the much taller man. “You would be so furious if you knew.” His breath caught on something that was almost a sob. “Dwalin, what do you do when your heart breaks?”

Dwalin froze, before he dragged Fíli even closer into a fierce embrace. “Lad, is that where you've kept disappearing too?”

“Yes,” Fíli said, and now every breath was the edge of a sob.

“Oh child. You knew, you _knew_ that it could never be.”

“I _did_ ,” Fíli said. “I did. I never meant for it to become anything. I didn't think it would ever be like this. And now, and now I won't ever see him again and it's like there's a hole in my chest and I know I made stupid, terrible mistakes, but how—how do you—”

Dwalin was still holding him in the light of their two small lanterns. “Is he somewhere where Smaug won't be able to hurt him?”

“Yes,” Fíli said softly and that was more of a confession than he had wanted to make.

Dwalin let out a long, low breath. “That at least is some small mercy then. You bury it.” Fíli finally raised his head to meet Dwalin's gaze, taking a deep breath. “You bury it one day at a time. You've always been too invested in your own sense of duty. Use that to get through this until it doesn't even feel like it hurts anymore.”

“Can it feel like it doesn't hurt anymore?” Fíli asked.

“I don't know, lad,” Dwalin said. “I've never quite reached that point myself.”

Fíli let out a shaky breath. “Damn. What a pair we make.”

“You're strong though,” Dwalin said. “You'll make it through.”

He cupped Fíli's face for a moment, a tender gesture that he rarely allowed himself despite having helped Thorin and Dís raise both the boys. “Come,” he said, finally stepping away and bending down to pick up Fíli's lantern, handing it back to him. “Your brother will want to know you've returned.”

“Yes,” Fíli said, and he looked down before squaring his shoulders, building himself back up from the ground up.

Dwalin wished he had never had to. He turned, plucking his own lantern up when Fíli's voice stopped him. “Dwalin,” he said, soft. “I never realized there was someone you loved.”

Dwalin didn't want to turn back around and look at him. “Not many know of it.”

“I'm sorry,” Fíli said softly. “I wouldn't wish this upon anyone.”

“You still have a kind heart, Fíli,” Dwalin said. “Most people don't.”

“Still,” Fíli said and he walked forward, coming abreast of Dwalin. He hesitated a moment, Dwalin watching him before he reached out, squeezing Dwalin's free hand with his own. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for letting me compose myself. Hell,” he shook his head slightly. “Thank you for everything you've ever done for me.”

Dwalin cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly. “Your uncle and mother are like my own brother and sister. What wouldn't I have ever done for you.”

Fíli squeezed his hand again. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, lad,” Dwalin said and Fíli finally let go of his hand, pushing the gates open and walking inside. Dwalin stayed outside a moment longer, watching him before he closed the gates behind himself, blowing out the lantern and setting it in the alcove next to the door.

In the moments Fíli had been inside, Kíli had already found him.

“You promised,” he said, and Fíli had barely made it a hundred feet down the hall. “That today wouldn't be dangerous, that you would be home safe, and that you would stop keeping secrets from me. It's past midnight, Fee! I thought you had—I thought—”

“I know,” Fíli said, holding his brother. “I _know_. I thought today would be simple. And I promise there will be no more secrets, no more running away from you. It's finished, it's over.”

“What even was it?” Kíli asked and Dwalin could see the moment where Fíli hesitated, a flicker of pain on his face.

“Something that's passed.”

“Brother,” Kíli started to snarl but Fíli grinned at him, like there was no pain and pulled him further down the hall.

“I promise, brother, and I mean it,” Fíli said. “It's passed. I will not hide from you anymore.”

Dwalin watched them disappear down the hallway, Fíli distracting a still angry Kíli.

Long after they were gone he stood there, watching where they had been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the problems with this story showing up with it's entire timeline mapped out at once (This is rare for my writing okay) is that sometimes I think certain sequences aren't going to be as long as people expect (Like Fili in the town of humans). 
> 
> That being said this fic is now entering Act II in which Fili and Bofur are separated for a long period of time but of course this isn't hardly going to be the last time they see each other.
> 
> Also I have a LOT of feelings about Dwalin being gruff and serious but also a bit of a cream puff center when it comes Fili and Kili who he helped raised. I figure between Dis, Thorin and Dwalin they almost make up one fully functional parental unit.


	8. Chapter 8

Thorin paused in front of Fíli's doorway, shifting from foot to foot for several moments as if he might walk away before he finally knocked. After all, Bilbo had quite firmly shoved him out the door of their own chambers that morning with a request that might as well have been a command to go talk to his nephew.

Not that Thorin didn't wish to see or speak to his nephew of his own volition. Bilbo's insistence simply meant he couldn't avoid what was certain to be an emotionally messy conversation.

Fíli opened the door, hair half unbraided and expression wary. “Uncle.”

“Fíli,” Thorin said. For a second relief rendered him speechless. “We were worried last night.”

Fíli couldn't quite keep his gaze. “Yes I—I'm sorry.”

Thorin let out a breath, careful, because there had been too many other times when he had mistepped, when his temper had gotten the better of both of them. “Dwalin already came and spoke to me.”

“And what did he say?” Fíli asked, still not quite looking at him.

“That you had returned to us safely, and that we shouldn't pry in where you went or why.”

Fíli finally looked at him. “What? That—that worked.”

“Would you tell me where you went?” Thorin asked and Fíli flinched.

“No.”

“So perhaps Dwalin is correct and I should leave well enough alone,” Thorin said. He paused, shifting again and Fíli was frowning at him. “You have enough on your shoulders without me pressing. You returned safely and everyone, even Kíli, seems convinced whatever you were doing has been put to rest.”

“Yes,” Fíli said softly, like it pained him and Thorin paused. He wanted to poke, he wanted to dig into Fíli until he told him what made him look so soft and sad at once.

But to be honest, Thorin had a strong guess in that moment what it might be.

And the last thing Fíli needed was Thorin poking a hole into his heart to find out what was inside it.

So Thorin closed his eyes and moved on. “I came to give you something,” he said.

“A gift?” Fíli asked and he fiddled with the hair that was still loose, since Thorin had interrupted him braiding his hair, half the talismans still in a pile on his side table. “Shouldn't it be part of the dowry at this point?”

“This is something else,” Thorin said. “A gift from me to you, so you might have something to remember your family by.”

Fíli's mouth twisted but he nodded, accepting the small package when Thorin handed it to him. He pushed the fabric away and frowned. “A ruby,” he said, voice sounding hollowed.

“I thought,” Thorin said, reaching forward and wrapping his hand around Fíli's that held the jewel. “At least it would be something from us that he would most likely let you _wear_.”

That caused Fíli to raise his eyes again, almost a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

“He will not be able to keep you from us,” Thorin said, still holding onto his hand. “Even after the marriage. We will still be your family and he will not be able to hide you away and do whatever he wants with you.”

Fíli looked at him like he thought it was a lovely sentiment he didn't believe and honestly Thorin knew that would be the case. “Thank you, uncle,” Fíli said instead of calling him out on it. And Thorin finally released his hand.

“You should come to lunch,” he said, as Fíli had slept past breakfast. “Everyone will be glad to see you after last night.”

Fíli wavered, like he wanted to say no before he finally nodded. “Yes, of course. Let me finish,” and Thorin nodded, almost stepping out of the room before he paused instead.

“I—I could help?” he offered, because when Fíli had been young Thorin had often helped him braid his hair, even as the braids had became increasingly elaborate. Since he had married Bilbo and Fíli had only gotten older, that had ceased and sometimes Thorin missed the uncomplicated time they had spent in each other's company, Kíli complaining about how much effort braids were and honestly wearing the talismans on a leather cord produced the same effect anyway.

Now Fíli considered him a long moment before he finally nodded, a quick jerk of his chin and Thorin hated how relieved that made him feel as he picked up Fíli's brush, holding the golden strands in his other hand.

-0-

The guards insisted the boy had some sort of magic that freed him from their grasp which they could never hope to understand.

Bofur almost wanted to sit on the ground and laugh, but their profuse excuses meant that no one was giving him or his family a second look when they discussed his disappearance, and no one insisted they had engineered his escape.

Bofur supposed he should be thankful for some things.

But at night he stared at his ceiling and felt like it was odd that it was wooden beams instead of tangled roots. He also found himself hunting through every shop in town for a lantern that burned like Fíli's had with no luck.

He missed Fíli like an ache in a muscle he never realized he had before.

For the first week, Bombur was particularly solicitous, fluttering around him while Bifur placed himself as close to Bofur as he could without ever looking like he was lingering where his cousin was in his sight line. Bofur was starting to feel strangled by them.

On the other hand, the other towns people, who had always treated them as outsiders now turned to outright avoiding them. Bifur's toy business, always on the verge of falling apart, was devastated and Bombur was almost driven out of his job as cook at the local tavern.

“Maybe we should move on again,” Bombur muttered one night and Bofur felt panic clog his throat at the thought of leaving the forest, even if there was no good reason to stay.

“Life was hard everywhere else before this,” he said instead. “It will be hard wherever we go.”

“But elsewhere there are not haunted forests,” Bombur said. “Or talk of you being cursed.”

Bofur shrugged, because people were avoiding him, but after the way the town had treated Fíli he wasn't much bothered by that yet. He was too furious himself to regret them avoiding him.

But even after a few weeks it was starting to wear on him.

Bombur came home one night, carrying a basket with food from the tavern. “They won't stop talking about you,” he said, setting the apples down with a little too much force on the table.

“That's their problem,” Bofur said, grumpy from his spot in front of the fire, Bifur sitting across from him, carving something in a block of wood.

“It will become our problem when none of us can find work,” Bombur said, and Bofur winced, because no one had given him work since he had returned, and Bifur had lost so much business.

“Maybe we should move,” he said, though the words felt like they were being torn out of his throat.

Bombur looked up before he looked away and before any of them could come up with someone else to say, a carefully firm knock came on the door.

All three of them stared at it.

“Well they don't sound angry,” Bombur said after a beat and Bofur rose, approaching the door. He paused, weighing whether to open the door or not when another knock came, as firm as the first one. Taking a deep breath he opened it quickly, and then blinked to find Sigrid standing on the other side with a basket.

“Um,” he started.

“I wanted to bring you some food,” she said, chin tilted back and Bofur wondered if her father knew she was there.

“That's—that's lovely lass, but we're not yet put up for food. We have enough,” Bofur said, still looking at her in confusion.

“I know,” she said and then swallowed. “Or at least I suspected so.” She paused, not quite shifting uncomfortably but close. “It's just—the way people are treating you. It's not fair and it's not right. You're being shunned needlessly. And, well, being seen being treated like a normal person, well, I hoped it might help is all.”

Bofur felt his jaw drop but nothing clever came out of his mouth. “Oh.”

“You're perfectly welcome,” she said. “To just—make the food up and bring it right back. But you've been through a lot and you shouldn't be treated like this. And I just wanted to help.”

From behind Bofur, Bifur came up, reaching around his cousin to take the basket because Bofur was still too surprised.

“You,” Bofur started and had to start again. “This is all very kind of you.”

“It's the least I—” she started and broke off when Bifur returned, handing her a carved wooden flower. It was, perhaps, one of the least strange creations Bifur had made in years. “Oh. Thank you.”

Bifur nodded, wandering back toward the fire and Bofur swallowed before turning his attention back to Sigird. “Thank you,” he said. “You—you really don't think your father would mind us taking your food?”

“Honestly,” she said, looking at him. “Of course not.”

Bofur twisted his hands together, and since Sigird had planted herself in the doorway and not come in, quite a few of the townspeople had passed by, already whispering. For a moment Bofur couldn't tell if he was furious or pathetically grateful to her. “We have no way to repay you,” he said. Or her father for that matter.

Sigrid reached forward, taking his hands in both of hers and smiled. “That's not the point, you silly man.”

Bofur nodded, having to accept that. Sigrid glanced behind him, looking at Bifur and Bombur. “I hope we will see all three of you soon.” She smiled again at Bofur before dropping his hands. “Have a good evening.”

“You as well,” Bofur said, and it felt stupidly inadequate.

But she was still smiling as she walked away, nodding her head at some of the more nosy townspeople who were watching as she went past them.

-0-

Fíli landed hard on his back and glared at the far off ceiling for a moment. “That was unfair.”

“When is your opponent going to be fair?” Dwalin asked, swinging his wooden practice ax a few times, waiting for Fíli to get back up.

Still scowling, Fíli pushed himself up, knees still knocked out in front of him. “Many opponents adhere to the rules of civility,” he said.

“And enough of them don't,” Dwalin said. “You aren't training for the ones that follow the rules. You're training for the hardest opponents you're going to face.”

“You don't think that will be yourself?” Fíli asked, meant to be light and Dwalin's face darkened.

“Hardly,” he said. “I'm human, for one.”

Fíli paused, meeting his gaze. “Which means there will always be those I'm powerless against.”

“Are you trying to talk yourself out of more training?” Dwalin asked, arching a brow and Fíli shook his head silently.

“No, no, sorry, that's not—I just—”

“If you're nervous, lad, it's alright,” Dwalin said.

“Nervous?” Fíli said. “You say that as if I have something to be nervous about,” but his bluff didn't work on either of them. “Nothing I do is going to matter there,” he said. “If Smaug wishes to do something, I won't be able to stop him. I'll probably not even manage to defend myself from his courtiers if they took it into their head to attack. I'm good at surviving in the forest, I know I am. I know the rules, I know how to fight, I know when to hide, and none of it is going to matter.”

Dwalin hesitated, holding his practice ax over one shoulder. “I should come with you.”

“What?” Fíli looked up at him. “No, certainly not. Ori is bad enough.”

“Ori isn't going to be any help in protecting you.”

“I can't protect myself there,” Fíli said. “You wouldn't be able to either. That would be—that would be the worst possible thing for you. You'd tear yourself apart and I'm not going to be responsible for that. Besides, I'd rather you were here. Protecting the rest of the family.”

Dwalin sighed and they stayed like that a moment, Dwalin standing and Fíli still on the ground.

“You never married,” Fíli said suddenly.

“No,” Dwalin agreed.

“Was it because you loved someone you couldn't have?” Fíli asked.

Dwalin just stared at him, arching a brow and Fíli sighed. “Yes, alright. But, it means you never found someone else to love instead. Or had the question of an arranged marriage.”

“I'm not like you and Thorin,” Dwalin said and Fíli winced. “No one would ask for my hand. I'm neither desirable enough nor the heir to anything.”

“Desirable enough?” Fíli asked. “Honestly, Dwalin.”

That got him another arched brow but Dwalin didn't press. “But what you're asking is if you'll love another, isn't it?”

“I don't necessarily mean my husband,” Fíli said quietly. “But surely—surely there's some point when you must be able to move on?”

Dwalin bent down, offering him a hand and Fíli took it, allowing Dwalin to pull him back up. “I don't know,” he said. “I've never found it.”

“How do you live with it?” Fíli asked, because as the days had ticked past nothing had seemed to ease the ache of knowing Bofur was gone.

“Is there another choice but to live with it?” Dwalin asked. “Sometimes are worse than others is all. Sometimes you almost forget it. Sometimes it feels as overwhelming as the first day you realized you loved them at all.”

Fíli stared at him, twining the end of one braid around his fingers. “You're not going to tell me who it is, are you?”

Dwalin chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course not. Just like you won't explain where you went.” Fíli looked away. “Exactly. Some things you just have to carry by yourself.”

“When Bilbo first came here,” Fíli said suddenly. “I never expected to be jealous of my uncle.”

Fíli heard Dwalin sigh. “Thorin never expected to be happy,” he said softly. “When his marriage was announced. He swore to me he was doomed to live with a man he could never love. But from their marriage night we both knew that wasn't going to be the case and Thorin ran away from that realization for a long time. He couldn't bring himself to admit how easily he could love his husband.”

“No marriage night is going to be enough,” Fíli said quietly. “I know Smaug too well already. Thorin and Bilbo did not meet until days before the wedding.” He rubbed a hand up his arm, still not looking at Dwalin. “Besides, I don't think Thorin loved anyone else.”

“No,” Dwalin rumbled. “He loved no one else before Bilbo.”

“I feel like I'm starting two steps further back from my uncle then,” Fíli said. “I can't figure out how to manage a happy ending from this place I've put myself in.”

He tensed when Dwalin pulled his face back around to face him, butting their foreheads softly together. “You'll endure. You'll find happiness where you can find it. You've always been strong, Fíli, you'll simply have to become even stronger.”

Fíli closed his eyes, already wishing this moment wouldn't have to end because it meant all the moments he dreaded would have to arrive. “Thank you,” he said and Dwalin didn't pull back until Fíli was finally ready for him to do so.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I still have a lot of feelings about Dwalin and Fili being close and now even closer for having each other's secret broken hearts.


	9. Chapter 9

A few days later Smaug arrived with a caravan of gifts.

“Well, at least I'm selling myself dearly,” Fíli muttered, Dwalin and Ori probably the only two who heard. Kíli's jaw had dropped when he saw the amount of wealth at their door before he seemed to remember why it was all there and then he spent the rest of the hour it took for everything to pass through their gates glaring at it all.

Fíli and Smaug stood on opposite sides of the gates as they watched it all go past them. At the end, Smaug stepped forward, holding a hand out. Fíli dropped his eyes before he met him, placing his hand on top of Smaug's.

“Are you pleased with your bride price?”

“It's rather a lot,” Fíli settled for.

“Those such as you do not come cheaply,” Smaug said and they walked together into the great hall, Fíli's hand on top of Smaug's. “Have you packed?”

A surge of panic lodged in Fíli's throat. “The wedding is not until another week,” he said. “And—I was uncertain exactly what I would be allowed to bring.”

“Whatever you want,” Smaug said. “Space is no object. Someone is coming with you?”

“Yes,” Fíli said, because Ori was still insisting and he couldn't bear fighting with him anymore. In no small part because as the time got closer he couldn't imagine what leaving alone would be like.

“After the feast,” Smaug said. “We should complete the ceremony of binding.”

“Alright,” Fíli said.

“Your wedding clothing has been included,” Smaug continued. “I expect it to meet your satisfaction.”

“I'm certain it will be fine,” Fíli said, and Smaug's hand was warm underneath his.

He jumped when Smaug leaned down, speaking directly against his ear. “You aren't going to be this falsely docile when we're wed, are you?” Fíli snapped his gaze up even as he leaned away, some of his anger escaping. “Ah, that's better,” Smaug said as Fíli glared at him.

Before Fíli could respond, they had reached their places at the table, and Smaug led him to his seat, holding his hand until he sat before taking his own seat.

Thorin was stiff and unhappy on Fíli's other side, glancing over from time to time as the food was brought out.

“Ah, your halls,” Smaug said, looking around with his golden eyes. “They're so... quaint.”

Fíli and Thorin both tensed. “They are our home,” Fíli said, before Thorin might say something less diplomatic.

“Sentiment, then,” Smaug said with a shrug. “Even the food here is, hm, quaint.”

Fíli curled his hand into a fist under the table. “Does our fare not please you?”

Seeming to sense his tightly held anger, Smaug reached down and took his hand with his again. Fíli tried to release it out a fist but it was already too late as Smaug's larger hand wrapped around his, holding it closed. Smaug lifted his hand, kissing his knuckles before letting go. “The food does not have to please me.”

Fíli snatched his hand back, before carefully placing both of them flat on the table in front of him. He made the mistake of looking over, seeing Thorin's barely suppressed rage and concern on Bilbo's face.

Looking away again, he stared straight ahead, tense as Smaug ate beside him. Seeming to grow bored of that after only a few minutes, Smaug reached out, brushing his fingers along the braids closest to him, sending a few of the talismans clanking together. “Are you not eating tonight, love?”

Fíli had completely forgotten the food in front of him. “I have simply... not been hungry is all.”

“You should still eat,” Smaug said, and he might have sounded concerned except for the condescension in his voice.

“I,” Fíli swallowed, looking at his plate before forcing his eyes to look at Smaug. “Yes, of course.”

Smaug smirked back at him and honestly Fíli had survived far worse tasks than this so he set himself to eat, even if he didn't taste a single thing the whole night.

-0-

“This seems forward,” Bombur said, perhaps the third time.

“She's the one who made the suggestion,” Bofur said and all three of them were standing clustered in front of Bard's door, which was a silly place to be just standing, so he knocked, a quick rap on the door. “She said, cook the food if you like and bring it back.”

“I'm just not sure that was actually a thing she expected to happen,” Bombur said but before Bofur could reply the door opened, Bard confused on the other side.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Bofur took a deep breath. “Well, your daughter the other day did us a great kindness, helping us out and since everyone else was being—reluctant to be seen with us or give us work she was worried. But well, she brought us an awful lot of food and, well, Bombur cooked some of it up and we brought it back in case—well Bombur is a good cook so we wanted to bring it back to show our appreciation.”

“My daughter,” Bard said, glancing over his shoulder as Sigrid gave him a beatific smile. “Which she did not think to tell me.”

“Honestly, da, what would I have told you?” she asked and Bard considered before he stepped back, holding the door open.

“I have heard good things about your brother's cooking,” he said. “You might as well come in and share the meal with us.”

“With,” Bombur started, eyes widening. While Bofur and Bombur were still floundering over the idea, Bifur happily strolled inside the house. “Oh, I mean, thank you for the invitation,” Bombur finished.

“You're welcome,” Bard said, closing the door behind them as Bombur and Bofur entered.

Bard handed his oldest daughter the basket of food they had brought back. “Here, Sigrid, since these are your guests you can be in charge of setting the table.”

“Of course da,” she said and Bombur bustled over to help her.

Bifur had already settled himself in front of the fire, Tilda and Bain watching him as he pulled out a toy dragon with flapping wings, showing them how it worked. That left Bofur standing awkwardly in front of Bard, the first time they had been close since Fíli had escaped.

“I, um,” Bofur started.

“People are small minded,” Bard said and Bofur blinked at him. “I hear that you still have not been given work since you returned.”

“No,” Bofur said.

“And that they are more or less shunning you socially.”

“Yes,” Bofur said, even smaller. “Your daughter did a brave thing for us, showing us compassion where everyone else could see.”

“Yes,” Bard said, and his eyes softened in a way Bofur had never seen from him before. “She has a very kind heart.”

“And now you're letting us have dinner in your own house,” Bofur said. “Thank you,” he added.

Bard nodded and for a moment there was silence between them. “You know,” Bard said. “I've been in the forest perhaps the most of anyone, having to lead the search parties in those times when someone goes missing. And yet in all that time, I've never seen a soul such as the one who saved you. The forest remains a mystery to me.”

“I hardly know more than you,” Bofur said. “Except that that boy said he was human, that he has a family there. That lanterns have some power, that there's things even the inhabitants fear. That's there's apparently a _dragon_ somewhere in there.” He paused, uncertain if he wanted to continue or not. “They don't seem as constrained by certain social structures as we have.”

“That's more than I've found out in years,” Bard said and glanced over at him. “Social structures?”

“Marriage is different there, is all,” Bofur said.

“Marriage?” Bard asked.

Bofur wished he had kept his mouth shut, but more and more the past few weeks he thought about the things Fíli had said, about the judgment of the townsfolk and the constraints they put on themselves and each other. He also found himself chasing glimpses of blond hair in the market place, turning as if he hoped the impossible had happened only to be constantly disappointed. “He mentioned at one point his uncle was wed to, well, a husband.”

He should never have said anything because now Bard was staring at him. “A husband?”

“It may have been an arranged match,” Bofur said.

“There's enough people in the forest for political marriages?” Bard asked and he didn't sound horrified or appalled, simply interested. “There's so much we don't know. We barely even enter the edge of the forest, and try to avoid that as much as possible.”

“Isn't that they way we've been safe all these years?” Bofur asked. “By avoiding it?”

“We live on its edge,” Bard said. “Not understanding it may one day prove more dangerous than anything else.”

Bofur stared at him, a shiver going down his spine, because he remembered the scream of the shadow and wondered if Bard wasn't right. If the forest ever left its bounds, they would be defenseless against it.

“Da, the food is ready,” Sigird said, startling Bofur out of his thoughts and he watched as Bard smiled at his daughter, kissing the top of her hair on his way to the table. But even as he ate, surrounded by his family and Bard's kindness, he couldn't fully shake that feeling of dread.

-0-

“You know the purpose of this ritual?” Smaug asked, holding a white gem in one hand as he faced Fíli.

“Yes,” Fíli said. They were alone, though Fíli knew his family waited right outside the door. “To prove I have not lied to you before the wedding.”

“It works both ways, dear,” Smaug said and motioned toward the basin of water that stood between them in the room. He slid his hand holding the gem into the clear water and Fíli closed his eyes before doing the same, joining their hands under the water.

Smaug moved his other hand over their clasped hands and the basin, murmuring something that made the clear jewel glow white. “Now, then, love, have you followed the rules of our agreement?”

“Yes,” Fíli said and the white glow remained. “I have adhered to the letter of your requirements.”

“Have you adhered to the spirit of it?” Smaug asked and Fíli frowned.

“The spirit of it? You've never cared about that,” Fíli said. “You want me bound to you, loyal to you. You never tried to claim my heart in either negotiations or contract.”

Smaug smiled again, the corners of his mouth curling up. “True, ours is quite the literal agreement, is it not? But you have been loyal.”

“Yes,” Fíli said, and the glow hadn't changed at all.

“And your heart?” Smaug asked, a brow arching and Fíli tensed.

“That's not part of this,” he said, throat going dry.

Smaug laughed, shaking his head. “Very well,” he said, and Fíli looked away, except Smaug's hand was still wrapped around his, the cold press of the gem between them. “Is there anything you wish to ask me?”

Fíli almost said no and realized that would be a lie that would break the whole ritual. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, forcing himself to meet Smaug's eyes.

“Because I want you,” Smaug said, blandly but his eyes were blazing and Fíli stared.

“Why?” he asked finally.

“Because you fascinate me,” Smaug said. “Because you're beautiful and I covet all that is gold in the world. Because it amuses me to want you. Take your pick.”

Fíli felt his jaw drop and couldn't look away for a long moment, before he wrenched his eyes down to find the gem still pulsing white. “You've always taken what you wanted before,” he whispered. “Why go through this charade?”

“There is no charade,” Smaug said. “You are going to be my husband, my consort. With all that entails. Simply taking you would hardly produce that result now, would it? There is an old magic to binding people together, and it is best to always do it right.”

“All that entails?” Fíli asked, raising his eyes again.

“Yes,” Smaug said. “I do not simply need a babble to warm my bed. _You_ are going to be my consort.”

“What does that even mean?” Fíli asked.

“If you don't know, you will soon enough,” Smaug said. “But speaking of doing this right—You are entering this agreement freely and of your own will, are you not?”

“Am I marrying you of my own will?” Fíli asked, stunned by the question.

“Are you?” Smaug asked, and his fingers were cold under the clear water.

“No one is forcing me to do this,” Fíli said, meeting Smaug's eyes again, because it was true. Smaug had not even threatened violence against them if he refused, only allowed it might happen in the future, the next time he felt like crushing a kingdom underneath his claws. His own family wished he was being selfish for once. “I am doing this because I feel that I must.”

And the gem was still white.

“Good,” Smaug said. “Than we shall be bound together.”

He lifted both of their hands out of the basin, considering the jewel as it went from glowing white to a milky color, not the clear that it had been before. “Keep this,” he said, handing it to Fíli who looked away as he accepted it. “As a remembrance of your promises. You are marrying me of your own will, and you have been loyal to me. I expect that not to change.”

“It will not,” Fíli said and Smaug bent down, cupping Fíli's cheeks and tilting his head back to look at his mouth.

“And this,” Smaug said. “Good.”

“Good?” Fíli asked.

“Your mouth,” Smaug said and Fíli tensed. “No one else has touched it.”

Fíli felt his shoulders sag in relief and Smaug arched his brows. “Did you doubt that would be the result?”

“I grapple with people,” Fíli said. “I did not know the specifics of the curse. If accidental brushing would set it off, or kissing Kíli's hair.”

“No, it must have intent behind it,” Smaug said. He smiled again, thin and cold. “I will see you in a week.”

“Yes,” Fíli said faintly as he walked out of the room. He looked down at the jewel which had proven his words true in his hands and slowly sank to the floor, staring at it.

 


End file.
